More Than Just a Clone (Not Just a Copy of a Man)
by LongLiveTheClones
Summary: Commander Bly receives Order 66 and has to make a split-second decision whether to fire. Has Aayla Secura ever seen him as more than just another clone? The two struggle to find their way in a galaxy forever changed as the Republic disappears and the Empire begins to emerge. Can they find a safe haven, or will they be forever hunted as a Jedi and a traitor? Artwork by gloryblaz.
1. Chapter 1 Time Stands Still

"Execute Order 66."

Clone Marshal Commander Bly stood on the surface of Felucia, temporarily stunned.

Surely, there had to be some kind of mistake? Bly followed standard procedure, and immediately sent the order back for verification. He knew all 150 of his contingency orders, but they were just that... contingencies. The order came back as verified.

_Verified?_

Feeling like his brain was on auto-pilot, Bly crisply acknowledged the order, as per standard procedure.

"Yes, sir."

He heard the words echoing in his helmet, and realized his second-in-command, Captain Steely, had received the order as well, and followed through procedure, exactly as Bly had. The captain's helmet snapped over, staring at Bly. Steely tensely awaited the signal to fire on their General.

Everything unrolled in surreal slow motion.

Tic.

It was just a fraction of a second that had passed, but Steely realized Bly was hesitating. The clone captain immediately turned to the troops around him, signaling with crisp hand movements. Steely raised his rifle, aiming dead center into the middle of the unsuspecting Jedi Master's back. The troopers around him did the same. To anyone observing, everything seemed eerily silent. But, within the clones' private world of internal helmet comlinks, Steely was rapidly barking out orders. He ensured there was no misunderstanding about the target. Steely paused just a micro-second to shoot a glare at Bly.

The clone commander chose to ignore him, his attention completely focused on their General. Aayla was in mid-step, rising from her morning meditations. She froze. Bly expected her to now do something spectacularly Jedi. She would leap out of the path of danger, disarming her attackers with the wave of her hand. _Come on, General. Fight_

In the three years that they had worked so closely together, Bly had seen his General do some amazing things.

_Or... not._

Ayala had stopped to watch an unusual tropical bird take flight. She was graceful. Beautiful. At peace. And, totally ignorant of the troops about to shoot her in the back.

_Why aren't you sensing what's going on? Fierfek! What's wrong with your Jedi radar today?_

Bly's adrenaline-flooded body took in the bird, the rifles, Steely, and Aayla all at once.

Orders were orders, they had to obeyed at all times. The Republic Army is the backbone upon which the Republic stands. _Or, at least that's the shab they taught us at Kamino. More like the refresher upon which the entire Republic- OK, Bly, focus!_

Bly's brain commanded his hands to raise his rifle, just like Steely. But, as much as he knew he should follow the order to shoot his General, something held him back.

_Fek! Why can't I do this? It's an order from the chancellor. All orders must be obeyed._

_But, it's... the General._

The clone commander felt an immediate conflict rising up within him. Bly saw Steely's fist come down, giving the signal to commence firing. He heard Steely's harsh voice inside his helmet, echoing the same order. And, in one, life-changing moment, he knew what he had to do.

As the adrenaline fueled his body, and blood pounded in his ears, Bly pushed off with his legs. He threw himself sideways in front of all the upraised weapons, just as Aayla sensed danger.

_Oh, now she senses danger. Great timing, General,_Bly thought wryly just as he saw the bright flashes of the firing rifles. _So, this is what tinnies' see right before we waste them,_Bly's thought as his body fell directly into the path of the firing clones.

Aayla spun around, her eyes growing wide as she took in the sight of her own men firing upon her. How many times had they each saved each other's lives, and now they were firing upon her?

And, then, seemingly out of nowhere, Bly flew in front of her. He spread his body as wide as he could, to ensure no shots hit Aayla. Aayla watched in horror as Bly's plan to be a human shield worked all too well. The volley of rifle fire struck Bly. His body jerked as each of the shots hit him.

A cry escaped her lips as she saw him get hit - four shots in total - one after another-in quick succession. Her highly attuned sense of smell detected burnt plastic alloy, followed by the unmistakable smell of burnt human flesh.

Bly gasped in pain and shock as the close-range shots penetrated his armor- striking skin and bone underneath. _Oh, shab! My arm- it's burning!__ General! I __can't breathe! Aayla! Help! I can't..._ Bly crashed down, sending up a little cloud of dusty red sand from the force of his fall. He made a single weak gasping sound, and then lay completely still.

Black smoke was rising off his armor in several places, providing a stark contrast to the red sand surrounding his still figure. For a moment, there was complete, stunned silence. Everyone stared at the fallen, crumpled figure, paralyzed for a moment into inaction. Then, their accusing glances stared at each other. It was as if they were trying to comprehend whose fault it was that their Commander was now in this sorry state.

Steely was the first to recover. He raised his rifle again. Although Aayla heard no sound, she was sure he was shouting at full volume into the helmet coms. Steely always was overly loud when overwhelmed. The troopers around him raised their rifles in one smooth synchronized motion.

Aayla shifted her attention from Bly to the troopers. She closed her eyes and gracefully raised one hand, palm stretched outward.

"Fierfek," muttered one of the clones, "a pissed off Jedi..."

Aayla breathed in, gathering the living force in to her chest. Before the troopers could fire the second shot, Aayla breathed back out the living force with a force push of great power. Steely and the troopers went soaring backwards into a nearby rock face. They clattered into the rock wall, their armor making an odd thwacking sound as it hit the rock.

Aayla couldn't hear their cries of pain because they were all still on internal coms, but she felt the ripple through the force. They clattered down the rock face and fell down into the dirt, and lay there unmoving. Aayla was sure some of them were still alive, but none of them made the slightest effort to rise from the dirt, or come after her again. She could hear other troopers running toward them at the commotion. Aayla turned her attention back to Bly. She knelt down next to him.

"Commander Bly?"

Bly was completely unresponsive. Aayla felt her insides seize with fear. She popped the seal on his helmet and tugged it off. His eyes were closed, and his skin tone was ashen.

"Commander Bly?"

She pulled one of his eyelids open, and leaned down by his ear.

"Commander Bly!"

She looked up quickly to check the location of the other troopers. They were all still at the rock face, administering aid and trying to figure out just how their brothers had all managed to collide with the wall.

Using her most authoritative Jedi General voice, Aayla said: "Commander Bly, report!"

Bly's eye flickered. He moved one hand slightly, as if reaching for her. Then, the hand stilled again, as if even that effort was too much. Aayla breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's OK, Commander," Aayla said, putting her arms under Bly and lifting him up. Bly groaned as she moved him.

"I know you're in pain. Stay with me!" Aayla pleaded, as she took off running with Bly in her arms.

She channeled her force senses to try to keep track of who was where around them. Everyone was temporarily distracted by the bizarre 'accident' at the rock face. Aayla ran for the temporary hanger holding the Republic ships.

She put Bly down for a moment, and with much haste, expelled a pilot from the nearest ship. The pilot went crashing headfirst into a support post and lay still. Aayla hoped he was just injured, and not dead. This was quickly turning out to be a tragic, messy, bloody day, and she still had no idea why her troops had turned on her. She could think of no reason why clones would be shooting at Jedi. But, she didn't have any time to spare worrying about that now, nor to worry about the fate of the unfortunate pilot. She gathered Bly back up again and charged full-speed into the ship.

There was no time to secure Bly into the medbay, so she just had to deposit him back down on the floor again.

"Sorry!" she murmured, feeling like she was hauling him around like a piece of cargo. Bly just moaned, almost too faintly to be heard, when she dropped him to the floor of the cockpit. She gave him a quick, regretful glance and leapt into the pilot's chair.

It wasn't until she was almost in hyperspace that she saw the first signs of pursuit. By then, it was too late to offer her any serious challenge. She punched in hyperspace coordinates, and they disappeared off the scopes of their pursuers. They were safely away, and for now, out of reach of those that sought to harm them.

Aayla breathed a quick sigh of relief. She immediately turned her attention back to Bly. He lay unmoving, on the floor, awkwardly, in the same position in which she'd left him. He'd made no attempt to move himself into a more comfortable position. It looked horribly uncomfortable, especially considering his injuries. Aayla's whole system went cold, as she approached Bly. Was she too late? Was Bly already dead?

With a feeling of impending dread, knelt down next to Bly's still form. She feared he'd passed away in those precious few minutes it had taken to escape from Felucia. She rested a hand up against his neck, extending her force senses at the same time.

She almost fainted with relief when she felt a small thready pulse. His breathing was faint, but labored, at the same time. She could feel that Bly was still clinging to life. Aayla gave a quick sigh of relief that he still lived.

She gathered his battered form up as gently as she could, and rushed him back to the ship's med bay. As she carried him, he lay limply in her arms. He seemed to be randomly drifting in and out of consciousness. He'd snap into consciousness, and, just as quickly, pass out again. Bly didn't move or react at all when she deposited him down on the bed in the medbay. Aayla set about quickly removing Bly's smoke-stained, yellow ARC armor.

Aayla had patched up injured clones before, and was adept at removing the gription plates. She quickly and neatly stacked Bly's armor on the floor, and then set about removing his bodysuit. Because Bly had been shot multiple times, the bodysuit was damaged in many areas. She was grateful the bodysuit came apart in sections, as it made it easier to remove it around his injured areas. Aayla shuddered as she remembered the shots hitting him. She had to push the memory to the back of her mind, so she could focus on the task at hand.

Bly had wounds to the lower chest, upper thigh, shoulder and arm. She decided to just strip him completely down. She needed to get at all of these wounds quickly. She had difficulties removing the armor and around his right shoulder and arm. Portions of the armor and boydsuit had melded together, superheated by two rifle shots that struck in too close proximity to each other. The bodysuit had then fused in to his skin from the heat of the blasts. The skin around these areas was completely burnt. This would explain the smell of burnt flesh Aayla had detected immediately after Bly had been shot. His lower arm was worse off than his shoulder. It was difficult for Aayla to tell which areas were blackened flesh, and which areas were part of the black bodysuit. The entire area just looked blackened and charred, and the bodysuit was completely fused to the burnt skin.

Aayla grabbed a pair of forceps, and tried carefully removing the scorched pieces of the bodysuit, bit by bit. No good. It was completely stuck to the skin. She felt something rip, and cringed at the sensation. Part of Aayla recoiled from injuring Bly him any further. But, the disciplined Jedi side of her knew she would do whatever she needed to in order to save his life. These pieces couldn't stay fused into his skin or infection would surely kill him. Detaching herself from her emotions, she picked up a different tool from the medkit and tried once again to get remove the fused material from his arm. No good. She readjusted her grip to a different angle and pulled with more force. Again she felt something rip, and she wasn't sure if it was skin, or a piece of blackened fabric from the bodysuit.

Bly groaned.

"Bly?" she said, wondering if he had just drifted back to consciousness.

Bly opened his eyes, blinking rapidly, trying to focus on his surroundings. He turned his head slightly and focused on Aayla.

"Are you -" he rasped out, then was hit with a coughing fit. He gestured weakly with his uninjured hand. Aayla looked puzzled for a moment, and then understood he needed water. She fumbled around, opening cabinets in the medbay. She felt inadequate, hearing Bly cough, and feeling she wasn't responding fast enough. He coughed up something red, which at first she thought was blood. But, then she realized he must have inhaled some of the red Felucian sand.

She grabbed a pouch of water, shoved a straw into it, and held the water up to his lips.

Bly coughed up more bits of sand, then grabbed the water with his good hand. His hand was shaking. She guided his hand to his mouth. He took several long sips, and finally his coughing eased.

Aayla grabbed a small cloth and wiped his face clean of water and bits of coughed up sand. Bly settled tiredly back against the pillow. Aayla felt relieved he'd stopped coughing. She looked for a place to set down the water, in the cramped med bay. Who designed these spaces anyway? She shoved the water pouch into a nook. Bly's eyes tracked her movements.

"You - OK?" Bly rasped out, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Aayla barked out a laugh, then covered her mouth, knowing she must sound hysterical. But, she couldn't help it. The emotions of the day were catching up with her.

"Am I OK?" she asked, placing two gentle hands on either side of his face.

He was looking into her eyes, his brown eyes wide with concern. He reached his good hand up to briefly grasp one of her hands.

"Yes, I'm OK," she finally answered, realizing he was waiting for an answer, "not a scratch on me... Thanks to you."

"That's... good," he rasped out so quietly and hoarsely that Aayla could barely hear him. He gave her a small smile that was both sad, and peaceful, at the same time, and his eyelids fluttered closed. She could feel his life force growing weaker and weaker. His features suddenly went slack.

The hand gripping hers let go, and fell limply by his side.

"No!" she said in alarm, "no!" She gripped his hand with desperation, "You can't go!" She squeezed his hand, trying to get a response from him, but his hand remained limp and unresponsive, "No!"

Emotions overwhelmed Aayla. There were things she needed to say to Bly, and she'd never taken the time to say them. Aayla was hit with deep, stabbing emotional pain.

Everything hit Aayla all at once- all the pain, chaos and death she'd been sensing from her fellow Jedi over the past hour. The image of her own troops firing upon her... (She still didn't know why.) The sight of smoke rising off of Bly's armor as he fell into the red sand of Felucia... And, now, Bly was gone.

She began to cry; huge wracking sobs, and buried her face against his bare chest. He still felt so warm and solid. What would it have been like to be held in those arms? Just once? She would never know.

She looked up at his face once more, and finally allowed herself to do what she had wanted to do for a long time. What she had been denying herself for so long...

She leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. So gently. So tenderly...

His lips still felt so warm, pliant and supple. So many regrets...

Too late...

A gentle sigh escaped her lips.

"Bly," she said, murmuring his name, sorrow evident in her tone.

"Aayla," he said, so softly, she thought at first it was her imagination.

She continued to kiss him, grief driving her actions.

But, when she felt the kiss unmistakably being returned, with just the tiniest bit of tongue, she realized that her Commander was not as dead as she first thought.

"Bly?" she said, pulling back and staring down at him in shock, then stated the obvious, "you're not dead?"

He cracked one eye open, and rasped out hoarsely: "Better check... to be sure..."

He closed his eyes, and tilted his head at just the right angle to receive another kiss, lips puckered slightly. Aayla jumped back, and began frantically grabbing more medical supplies out of the cabinet.

"Later!" Aayla went into a very un-Jedilike panic mode, "We have much to talk about! But, first, I must see to your injuries!"

Bly sighed heavily.

"Talk?" he rasped out, his voice still hoarse and weak.

Aayla ignored him, as she quickly picked up some supplies she'd let drop to the floor when she thought he was dead. Aayla sterilized a tool, and once again tried to gently pry away the heat-blasted material that had fused into the burnt flesh on his arm.

He hissed in pain, his whole body tensing up.

"Sorry!" Aayla said, her eyes flashing to his face, "but, you have all this plastoid and fabric melted into your skin. If it stays there, it will get infected. I'm going to try again... " She readjusted her grip on the tool, and once again tried to pry off the fused material from his arm. She heard a rip, and Bly bellowed in pain. "Sorry!" she shouted out. She grabbed a painkiller from the medkit, and injected him in the neck.

He felt Aayla try once again to pull the fused armor off of his skin. Bly squeezed his eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath as he tried to deal with the pain without going mad. He ran through in his head everything he'd been taught in his training about managing pain. Finally feeling he had a handle on it, he opened his eyes again. He looked up at Aayla. She was looking at him with tears in her eyes.

She stared down at his arm, shaking her head, "We need to get you to a med center, Commander Bly. You need immediate surgery on this arm."

"No!" Bly shouted, struggling to rise.

Aayla pushed him back down with a firm hand against his upper chest, "Commander! Hold still! I'll straighten out whatever's going on, and then we'll rendezvous with the nearest Republic cruiser."

Bly was agitated as he tried to rise again, pushing hard against the hand restraining him. He struggled to speak, pushing out the words in harsh gasping breaths, "No! - Aayla! - Too - dangerous!"

Hearing Bly say her first name did strange things to her. Aayla ignored those feelings, and focused back on what Bly was trying to say to her. She tried to push him back down into the bed again. He was incredibly strong, considering how badly injured he was.

His eyes bored into hers, "Aayla! - Listen!" He grabbed on to her, pulling her down close to his face. He wanted to make sure she heard every word. He struggled to get the words out: "You - remove it. - Or, - leave it. - Can't go - anywhere. - Order - 66."


	2. Chapter 2 Another Adventure

Aayla stared at him, echoing the words, "Order 66?"

Bly nodded, hearing the Chancellor's voice in his head again.

Aayla's lips moved as she thought back to all the contingency orders she'd learned when she'd suddenly been forced to become a General. She repeated all the words of Contingency Order 66 in her head. Bly watched her very carefully as she worked it all out. Suddenly everything that had happened, and all the bizarre images and feelings from her fellow Jedi over the past few hours made sense.

But, it was all just too much and too horrible. Aayla refused to accept that this was now the reality of her universe. "No, it can't be," Aayla said in denial, shaking her head, "the Jedi would never..." Aayla closed her eyes, feeling bile rising up in her throat. But, the moment she closed her eyes, she was once again assailed with images of Jedi dying, and the image of her own troops firing on her.

She felt a hand gripping her own, and saw Bly staring at her intently. He was holding her hand with his own good hand. The look in his eyes demanded that she accept the reality of their situation.

"66," he said again, firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt, "came directly- from Palpatine."

Another tear eeked out, unbidden, and traitorously, from Aayla's eye. It trailed, snakelike, down her cheek.

"How could they?" Aayla said, so softly the words were barely audible.

Bly wasn't sure if she meant her fellow Jedi, or the clones that carried out the order to execute them. Did it matter now? You couldn't undo dead. Bly pulled his good hand free from hers, and brushed the tear away with just the tips of two fingers. Aayla took a deep breath; this was no time to fall apart. She turned her attention back to the matters at hand.

"OK, Order 66," she said trying to accept the reality of it.

Then, her breathing hitched, and she was overwhelmed for a moment with grief and shame. She hung her head down for just a brief moment. The emotional punch, and the betrayal behind it still hit her so hard she felt shaky. How could her fellow Jedi have done such a thing?

Bly took her hand again, "I'm - sorry."

There was so much compassion in the way he was looking at her. Aayla bit her lip to keep from breaking down. She could feel that Bly was half-out of his mind both from the pain, and the shock of his injuries. The incredibly severe burns to his arm alone were enough to kill a lesser man. It took a man with an incredibly strong disposition to survive four close-range rifle shots. Only someone with the genetic make-up of Jango Fett could accomplish such a feat. Yet, here Bly was, comforting her in her darkest hour.

Aayla felt like she was about to lose it, and Bly was still in critical condition in front of her. She pulled her hand free of his. She breathed deeply, letting go off her emotions.

"There will be time for grieving later," she said, sounding like a detached Jedi, and a General, once again.

Aayla reached into the medkit, and grabbed a booster shot to bolster up Bly's system. The shot would help counter the effects of shock. She injected Bly in the neck. He winced briefly from the shot, but still gave her a brief, reassuring smile. Aayla tried to return the smile, but failed, her facial expression coming out more like a grimace.

She turned her attention back to the medkit. She needed something tangible and concrete to focus on. She began pulling out everything in the kit. She was grateful the kit was so well-stocked. Well, there was a war going on. Wait, how did Order 66 affect the war? What was the state of the war now, if the Jedi-

Aayla immediately shut down that line of thinking. No more speculating. No emotions. She shut her thinking off for the moment, compartmentalizing all the churning emotions and uncertainty.

She laid out a small selection of tools, and took a deep breath. She clamped on to the stuck material on Bly's arm.

"I wish there was another way," she said, shaking her head.

"It's - OK," Bly said, reassuringly.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. She knew this was going to hurt Bly, a lot.

"I'm sorry," she said.

Bly's eyes flew up to hers.

"Don't- be," Bly rasped out, "I've been - through worse."

He gave her a brave smile. Aayla didn't allow herself the time to stop and remember when he'd been through worse than this. This was no time to take a Bly/Secura trip down memory lane.

She had to stay focused. She knew anticipating it would be worse, so she did it without warning. She closed her eyes and called upon the Force to help her complete the difficult task in front of her. She didn't think she could do it otherwise. She firmly clamped onto the charred, fused piece of bodysuit and armor and ripped all of it off in one firm, swift ripping movement.

Bly roared up in pain, letting out a string of curses in several different languages. He lurched up off the biobed and would have fallen completely onto the floor if Aayla hadn't caught him. He immediately passed out. Aayla eased him back down onto the bed.

"You know a most impressive number of curses, Commander Bly," Aayla said to Bly's unconscious form, as she quickly worked to control bleeding. Blood, and a clear fluid, were streaming quickly off his arm, and onto Aayla, the bed, and then slowing down to a trickle before it dropped down to the floor, "I won't even ask where you learned such a colorful variety of languages."

Talking aloud, even if Bly was unconscious, helped Aayla get through the tasks at hand. Aayla quickly set about cleaning the area, and studying the strip she'd removed from his arm. When the strip had finally pulled free, it had pulled a lot of skin, and even some muscle with it. Much of it was already dead and blackened, but he now had a long, deep burn wound that extended from almost his wrist to his elbow. The skin was gone, and raw pink muscle was exposed.

It was the severity of the burns that concerned her. So much of his muscle tissue was destroyed, much of it all the way down to the bone. Even with bacta, she wasn't sure if so much muscle would regenerate itself. She was worried he would permanently lose use of the arm. It was his right arm, which was his dominant arm. She felt humbled, and also saddened, that Bly would sacrifice so much for her.

Aayla cleaned the wound carefully, packing it with bacta. She sealed it with a derm seal to keep out infection. As she bandaged it, she added extra padding, hoping it would minimize his pain when he was lying down, or if he accidentally rolled onto his arm while sleeping. She then concentrated her attention on his shoulder wound. The wound was deep, but not as severe as the arm wound. Some material there had also fused to the skin, but not nearly to the extent it had in his lower arm. She was able to remove this material relatively easily, and with much less damage to the underlying skin. She added bacta, and bandaged the area, grateful the wounds there were not as severe.

Aayla carefully examined the wound in his side. It was a long burn, and looked painful, but was also not as deep or serious as the arm injury. She cleaned it, packed it with bacta, and bandaged it. As her arms wound around his abdomen, she couldn't help but notice all the muscular definition around his mid-section. OK, so even though she'd seen naked clones before during battle triage, but somehow, seeing Bly naked, was _different_. She couldn't explain it.

Aayla sensed that Bly was regaining consciousness. Bly groaned, and opened his eyes. He immediately started trying to move around. When he moved his injured arm, he gasped with pain.

"Commander, lie still!" Aayla said, with concern. She turned Bly's face with her hands, so that his attention was on her, "you're very badly injured. You need to hold still so I can tend to your wounds. Do you understand?"

Bly looked at her, searching her face. He nodded slightly, and then closed his eyes again, grimacing, balling his one good hand into a tight fist.

"You're in pain," Aayla said, frowning, "I'm not sure I can give you another painkiller. It's too soon."

Bly gripped her with his good arm, "It's - OK... I'm - fine."

Aayla studied him, knowing he was anything but fine. But, she let it go.

She rummaged through the medical kit, and pulled out a sling. She reached behind his neck to fasten it. Bly leaned his head forward to make it easier for her to attach the sling. Aayla stared down at his hair for a moment. She'd never noticed just how thick it was. Wait! What was wrong with her? Aayla shook her head, trying to focus herself back to the task at hand. She finished fastening the sling.

Aayla gently eased his injured arm into the sling. Bly tried to hold back his gasp of pain when she touched his arm, but didn't quite succeed.

"I know it hurts," Aayla said, sympathetically, looking into his eyes, "I'm sorry."

"My - own - fault," Bly rasped out, with a small, cheeky grin, "clumsy - me."

Aayla smiled at his bravery in light of the situation. Impulsively, she leaned down and kissed him on the forehead.

"OK, now, you must let it heal," she said sternly, "give it time to regenerate. No using that arm, OK?"

"No-arm-wrestling-Wookies. Got -it," Bly said, with a serious face.

Aayla hoped it would actually heal. It was a terrible injury. She still couldn't believe that Bly had allowed himself to be shot four times to save her.

"You are stupidly brave, Commander," she said quietly, as she picked up some more supplies from the kit and prepared to treat his leg, "you almost got yourself killed... Don't do that to me again."

Bly just gazed intensely at her.

After she carefully examined the burn on his leg, she sensed he was still looking at her. She looked up and met his eyes. His look said it all. He would do it all over again, even knowing the terrible pain he'd have to endure. Aayla felt her stomach do a strange little flop, and she had to look away. She couldn't take the intensity in the way he regarded her right now. She concentrated on the task at hand. She cleaned his leg wound, and then carefully splinted his leg.

"The shot hit very close to the bone, but I don't think you broke it. There's some soft tissue damage, though," she said, as she finished wrapping his leg wound, "so, just keep your weight off of it, and give it a chance to heal."

She heard Bly give a little 'humph' noise in the back of his throat. He was notoriously bad about resting when he was injured.

"I'm serious, Commander," Aayla said, resting her hand casually above the bandaged area on his thigh, "you can't pull your usual stunt of sneaking out of medbay. Super-genetics or not, you took a huge beating today. You need to rest if you are going to heal properly."

Aayla saw Bly smirk and look down at her hand. Aayla followed his gaze. She was resting her hand very close to his... She quickly pulled her hand back. She heard Bly give a little snort of laughter, then moan. He put his hand to his side. Laughing had made his side wound pull painfully.

"Serves you right," Aayla scolded, "for laughing at me. Now, get some sleep."

Bly reached out to stop her with his good arm.

"Wait...what's - going - on?" he whispered, his head gesturing toward the cockpit.

He wanted to know what was going on in the galaxy at large - what had happened since he lost consciousness. Aayla could hear how labored his speech was, and she didn't want to keep him awake any longer.

"I don't know, Commander," she said, honestly, but also choosing not to tell him about the horrific Jedi deaths she'd been feeling over the past hour, "and I won't be able to find out until we drop out of hyperspace."

"Drop - out - where?"

"I don't know," she admitted, "I was in such a hurry, I just punched in a random address to the far Outer Rim. I guess we'll know when we get there."

Bly's lips curled up into a weak smile, and she could see he was losing the battle to keep his eyes open, "Another - adventure," he murmured, almost too softly to hear.

"I could do with a bit less adventure. Now, will you please get some rest before I have to sedate you?"

Bly brought his good arm up to salute, but it fell weakly by his side. His eyes slid shut, and he was out.


	3. Chapter 3 The Fate of the Jedi

Aayla sat by his side for a long while, double-checking the job she'd done bandaging his wounds, and monitoring his breathing. His pallor was still pale, but he was breathing steadily. She watched him sleep, as if this simple act could give her clues as to why he had done what he'd done. Finally, she stood, knowing she was stalling. She couldn't put off the inevitable any longer. Giving Bly's sleeping form one last glance, Aayla headed up to the cockpit.

The stars were still streaking by in hyperspace. The ship was flying just fine, without any Jedi or clone help, on auto-pilot. She stared at the pilot's chair a moment, as if it might bite her, before actually sitting down in it. She really didn't want to do this. She huffed out a steadying breath, and sat down.

She made herself comfortable, still trying to put off the inevitable for a few more seconds. Then, finally, she took deep, steadying breaths and entered a meditative state.

Immediately, she was assailed with horrific images. She'd been closing herself off to these images over the past two hours so that she could function during her escape from Felucia. But, she was still sensing some of what was going on. Now, in her meditative state, she opened herself fully opened to everything that was being projected out into the Force. The Force was screaming with the death throes of its' guardian warriors. Never before had she felt the flow of the Force so horribly jagged and shredded. It was as if the Force itself was reeling in shock from the sheer scale of the cataclysm.

It was all so horrible that it didn't seem real. Aayla's brain began to reject that this could possibly be reality. She'd seen few holovids during her strict Jedi upbringing, but she still had the sense of being trapped inside of a holovid. She knew there were holovids specifically catered to people who actually enjoyed seeing carnage. They were called horror-vids, and although Aayla had never seen one, as her brain continued to reject that this could be reality, she wondered if this could be what she was seeing.

Again and again, she saw Jedi Generals slaughtered by their own troops. But, the terror was magnified because Aayla was seeing all the events first-person, through the actual eyes of her fellow Jedi. She was seeing and experiencing the events just as they were/had been experiencing them. She would see and experience and event right up until the moment of death, and then it would start all over again through the eyes of another Jedi. Aayla was unaware of the passage of time, but the slaughter seemed to go on and on and on. It was as if the Force had determined her punishment for survival was now having to experience the deaths of the only family she'd ever known. The mass genocide of all Jedi was relentless and unending.

Aayla saw many Jedi shot in the back without warning, just as she would have been, if not for Bly taking all those shots in her place. Other Jedi sensed the danger, when Aayla didn't, and fought back. Through their eyes, Aayla watched them behead their own commanders and most trusted troops. What if Bly had tried to shoot her? Would she have done the same to him? Of course. Out of instinct, she would react, and likely beheaded him, just as the other Jedi were doing. She watched helmeted clone heads roll away time and time again. Yet, the executions happening out in the field still seemed somehow easier to take compared to the executions in the Temple itself.

The clones cornered Jedi in the Temple, and began efficiently and rapidly executing them just like they executed droids. One older Jedi was cornered, and then simultaneously shot in the head by multiple clones. From a military standpoint, it was a quick and efficient kill. From a human standpoint, it was horrific. There was literally nothing left of his skull. Aayla knew that elderly Jedi. She remembered sharing a cup of tea with him not too long ago. Ironically enough, Aayla, remembered telling him about the training project she was working on, training clone troops.

Yes, recognized some of the troops carrying out the Temple killings. As a senior Jedi, she'd been tasked to help advance the training of some of the finest and most elite clone troops. She worked hard to combine Jedi training techniques with the clones' existing skillsets so they could be even more effective when fighting out in the field. They'd been excellent students, and over that cup of tea, Aayla admitted she enjoyed training them more than training Jedi younglings. They absorbed information even faster than Jedi younglings, and they were even more disciplined than the younglings. Their attention never seemed to wander, like the younglings sometimes did. They were such skilled learners that they'd been a pleasure to teach. Aayla's perfect students had turned into the perfect killing machines, capable of taking down Jedi. The irony of this perfect circle of teaching, training and killing just made it all seem the more unreal.

But, even the execution of the elderly Jedi could not compare with the horror that was to come next... the systematic execution of the younglings... Aayla could not see who it was that was attacking the younglings. At first, the younglings were putting up a bravefront, as one would expect of young Jedi-in-training. They tried to fight back with their small training light sabers. But, how quickly they fell! They fell like paper in the wind, and their bravery faltered. They began crying in fear and terror like regular children. They cried out for someone to help them, someone to save them. But, either there was no one left to save them, or those that were around them, were somehow immune to the terrified cries of these dying children. Aayla saw each one of their little faces, she recognized them all, and it tore at her heart. She ached to reach through the link and somehow save the younglings. But, their lifeforces were extinguished so quickly, it was like a wildfire that could not be halted.

Who was killing the younglings? It was all so chaotic and unclear. And, then... it was all over. They were all dead. Their bodies lay strewn all over their colorful classroom, their eyes open, sightless and staring.

"No! No! No!" Aayla cried out. All the younglings! They were all dead! She couldn't break free of the horror of the dead children, and their wide-open staring eyes.

It was all too horrible. She couldn't take any more of it.

But, somehow, she couldn't break free, either. She was trapped within her own meditative state. And, she was no longer alone within her meditation.

There was darkness... two dark figures... their inky forms managed to glow black, and stand out against the rest of the blackness.

One of the evil figures began to turn. Aayla sensed something familiar about him. Why did she know this evil?

The second figure had his head tossed back, laughing at the spectacle of the slaughter of the prize of the Jedi- their younglings. His face was hideous. He took such delight in this most horrific act.

Now both heads began to turn slowly. They were turning toward her! Could they sense her? Did they know a Jedi had survived Order 66?

Aayla had to break out of this meditation, but she couldn't. She was sure she been in this meditative state now for hours and hours. Maybe days?

She was trapped in her own mind, in this never-ending horror of death and - She felt a hand grab her, and she lashed out in terror. She heard a cry of pain, and then the sound of body thumping down to the ground. Then, the longest, most colorful litany of inter-galactic cursing imaginable. Cursing? There was only person she knew that could curse with such enthusiasm. Bly!

Aayla snapped out of her meditative trance. The scenes of horror, including the two dark figures, instantly dissolved - to be replaced by the cockpit of the ship.

Bly was collapsed on the floor next to her chair in the cockpit. He was doubled up, clutching at his, er, manly sections. And, amazingly, he still had not run out of colorful language. Aayla leapt out of her seat, and knelt next to Bly. She grabbed on to him, and the warmth of his body felt like an anchor against the cold, black evilness she had just seen. She used her connection to Bly to temporarily block everything else out. She just stared at him, still reeling from the shock of her meditation. _Just focus on Bly. Just focus on Bly..._

Amazingly, Bly was _still _cursing. It appeared someone had struck him in a very vulnerable area. Oh.

"Commander! I'm so sorry! What are you doing out of bed?"

Bly finally stopped his multilingual tirade, and peered up at Aayla. "Heard - you-call-out," he said, in a very strained voice.

"You came to check on _me_?" Aayla asked, incredulously.

"Bad idea," Bly admitted.

"I hope I didn't injure you further?" Aayla asked apologetically.

"Next time I'll be sure to wear crotch armor before approaching you," Bly gasped out.

"Sorry about that," she said, trying to think of something she could do to help, "do you want bacta -"

"No!" Bly gasped out immediately, more protectively cupping his hand over his groin, "absolutely not."

"Then, come on, let's get you back to bed," Aayla said, reaching her arms out to lift Bly up.

Bly pushed back away from her, groaning from the movement. "No," he said, stubbornly, backing away from her even further, "tell me - what's wrong."

"Commander," Aayla said, exasperated, "you're badly injured. You need to be resting in medbay. Not worrying about me."

"It's my job to worry about you," Bly said, stubbornly, refusing to move. "Always has been."

Aayla locked gazes with him a moment, thinking.

"OK," she said, after a moment, "maybe we can do both."

She stood up, "Wait here. Don't go anywhere."

Bly snorted, obviously still in pain, but rolled his eyes at the suggestion that he might be able to go somewhere on his own.

Aayla disappeared into the back of the ship. Bly shifted a little, trying to get into a more comfortable position on the floor. He could hear Aayla moving things around in the back, and wondered what she was up to. She returned to his side, and started to lift him up.

"What - wait - " Bly started to protest.

"Trust me," Aayla said.

Bly looked at her for a long moment, and then nodded. He did trust her. Aayla easily lifted Bly. They were about the same height, even though Bly was heavier, due to his muscle mass. Aayla felt a bit strange carrying him, especially since he was still unclothed, other than his bandages. But, with the extent of his injuries, she didn't want him walking around either. Bly looked down in surprise when they entered the back room. Aayla had laid down two mattresses side-by-side. She'd pulled the mattress off the bio-bed, and grabbed a mattress off the crew bed. She set Bly down on one of the mattresses. He groaned as his various injuries were jostled.

"Sorry!" she murmured.

"S'OK," Bly said, sinking gratefully back against his pillow.

Aayla settled down next to him on the other one.

"OK," she said, "if you'll agree to rest, I'll tell you the little I know, OK?"

Bly nodded. He wouldn't admit it, but he did feel close to passing out again.

Aayla got up, and rummaged through the storage cabinets for a blanket. She tucked the blanket around Bly, making him even more comfortable. He sighed contentedly.

"Comfy?" she asked.

"Uh huh," he murmured.

Aayla settled down on the second mattress. She took a deep breath. She did not want to relive the horrible sights. But, Bly had saved her life. She owed him everything.

"Would you- tell me- your vision?" Bly asked, looking up at her compassionately.

Aayla sighed, and began to tell Bly of the images she'd seen. His eyes widened in shock. Aayla's voice cracked as she spoke of the younglings, and then she couldn't go on.

She felt Bly tug on her arm, pulling her down until she was lying down next to him. Bly pulled her down onto his good shoulder and she cried into his shoulder. He held her while she cried, great racking sobs. Part of her said it was wrong to lie with him like this, and part of her said the whole universe had gone crazy today so all rules were off. He kissed the top of her head gently, and rubbed her back.

Eventually, she fell asleep. He fell asleep, too, holding her pulled up tight against him. She was surprised how soothing it felt. When she awoke, she savored the feeling of being held so closely against the bare skin of his chest. She could feel his chest rising and falling with each breath he took as he slept. it was incredibly reassuring to just listen to the steady sound of his breathing. It was a steady constant rhythm in a sea of uncertainty. It didn't feel wrong. So, why had Yoda always insisted this was the path straight to the Dark Side? She pondered that for a while, exploring her feelings and found no hint of darkness in what she was feeling right now in lying next to Bly. She fell back asleep still trying to puzzle out why it was she'd always been told she couldn't be a Jedi, and also have feelings for somebody. Right now, Bly seemed a lot more real to her than Master Yoda.

She awoke, hours later, to the bleeping of a cockpit alarm. The ship was signaling that they were dropping out of hyperspace. She was reluctant to her position next to Bly, but she needed to figure out where they were. She really had punched in a very random address. She quickly checked Bly over. His heart rate was steady and strong, and his color was good. Body temperature normal. So far, no signs of infection.

She went up to the cockpit, leaving Bly sleeping. They were indeed far out into the Outer Rim. There was not much out here except for an asteroid belt, and an abandoned mining colony. Well, could be worse. At least they hadn't ended up in a hostile part of the Outer Rim. Aayla decided to land on the abandoned mining colony. Perhaps they could just hide out here, for as long as their supplies held out. Bly's injuries could heal, and they could work out their next steps.

Once they dropped out of hyperspace, Aayla would be able to finally get a signal from the HoloNet News Service and find out what was going on in the galaxy - at least from the skewed, filtered, viewpoint of a broadcast news channel.

Aayla did a sensor sweep of the desolate little mining planet from orbit. No signs of life. The planet didn't sustain anything fit for humans to eat or drink, and there was no breathable atmosphere. They wouldn't be able to supplement their ship's stores at all.

Whatever had once been mined there was long depleted. The planet had no viable resources at the moment. The planet's only attraction at the moment was to serve as a parking place for the ship. But, the planet was blissfully uninhabited, and, nobody was trying to kill them.

Aayla set the ship down, did another sensor sweep. Then, steeling herself for the worst, she locked in a signal from HNN, and settled in to the pilot's chair to watch the news. As she watched the coverage of the "Great Jedi Betrayal," she felt her insides churn. She put a hand up to her mouth. It was so difficult to watch this, but she also felt like she couldn't turn away.

Automated HNN cams showed an unidentified hooded man leading a long column of the 501st Legion up the steps of the Jedi Temple. The 501st? The pride of the Army? But, of course. They were the most disciplined regiment in the Republic Army. They were loyal to the Republic first. Aayla gasped as she suddenly made the connection - the unidentified hooded man leading the 501st- he was the man of darkness from her vision! But, who was he? She felt like she knew him. Yet, he was so dark, so evil... Yet, familiar...

Aayla knew with sickening certainty what was coming next, but she was still shocked and sickened when she saw it. The holocams were not allowed inside the temple, so they simply buzzed incessantly around the outside while correspondents speculated wildly about what might be going on inside. From the outside, you could see flashes of blaster fire emanating from all levels of the temple, and corresponding blinks of light saber blades. It was so bizarre to Aayla to be watching all of this as a voyeuristic spectator, considering the Temple was the only home she had ever known.

It was so horrible to watch. Aayla knew parts of what was going to happen from her visions, yet she still watched spellbound, hoping for some glimpse of hope. Some ray of hope that would make everything OK again. The colorful blinks of light saber blades became fewer and fewer, and the flashes of blaster fire became more and more frequent. Wait! Was that a red lightsaber? No, that couldn't be right. That was just blaster fire, right? No, there it was again. It definitely looked like a red lightsaber...

And, then, the Jedi Temple began to burn. Aayla put her fist into her mouth to keep from crying out.

They burned the Temple?

No, she hadn't expected that at all.

Not even in her wildest nightmares had she expected it to be **that** bad.

The Jedi Temple had stood for 1,000 years. They burned the Temple?

The Jedi Temple was gone?

The younglings? Were the younglings still inside when they burned it? Were any of them still alive when they burned it? Oh, this wasn't about just wiping out the Jedi. This was about wiping out any future for the Jedi, as well. The true horror of what had happened that day suddenly hit Aayla. Aayla sank to her knees as the Force whispered to her, confirming what her mind was trying to tell her.

All of a sudden everything made sense in a sickeningly, horrible way- the clones.

The war. All the little things that didn't add up before, suddenly did.

Aayla stood up out of the chair, and then began to retch. She hadn't eaten in many hours so there wasn't anything in her stomach. The shock and the horror was just too much for her system. She sank to her knees sobbing, right next to the spot where she'd just retched. It seemed a fitting symbol to how low she was feeling at the moment. Was she truly the last Jedi left? Was this all that was left of the Jedi Order? She just saw there crying and sobbing next to her pile of vomit, wondering how it was that the Jedi had managed to wipe themselves out in a single day.

Did she dare reach out with her mind and try to see if there were any more Jedi left alive? She would be dead, too, if it wasn't for Bly. Bly. A clone. One of the three million men created to be the perfect Jedi killer. It worked, too. They were magnificent Jedi killers. She stood up, staggering, as if drunk, and switched off the HoloNet by hitting the control panel with her fist.

Then, her legs gave out, and she just let her body crash to the floor. She lay sprawled out on the floor, next to her pile of vomit, and just stared at the ceiling of the cockpit. She took her lightsaber off her belt and just tossed it unceremoniously across the room. It hit the far wall with an unimpressive, dull thud, and just slid to the floor. And, there it sat, just an unremarkable little hunk of cylindrical metal.

All the Jedi. Dead.

Aayla tried to process that in her brain. To make it real. But, she was still having difficulties with it.

The clones. Created just to be Jedi killers.

Bly. A Jedi killing machine. She thought about that for a while. And, then realized, part of their plan didn't work.

_Bly didn't kill me._

As the one thought penetrated her severely shocked system, she felt the first glimmer of hope spark back to life within her battered psyche. Leaving her lightsaber behind, she stumbled into the back room, and lay back down on the mattress next to Bly. She rested her head back onto his good shoulder. He was still sleeping. She snuggled closer to him, trying to absorb the body heat and warmth coming over his muscular frame. She wrapped her arms around his solid chest as he slept peacefully. He was all she had left.


	4. Chapter 4 I am a man I am a clone

Bly woke up and groaned. His arm felt like it was on fire. It felt like someone had flayed all the skin off of it, and decided to roast it like a nerf steak. He tucked his injured arm into his chest, trying to find a position that eased some of the stinging, incessant burn that went up and down his arm. He felt a weight shift on his other arm. He opened up his eyes and looked down in surprise.

"Uh, good morning, General," he said, looking down at Aayla.

"Your arm," Aayla said.

"Huh?"

"You arm is bothering you," Aayla said in her sultry, husky voice.

Bly had forgotten about his arm the moment he'd started staring at Aayla.

"Uh, yeah, I guess it is," Bly said, responding back to what Aayla had said. He looked around, and got distracted for the moment by their side-by-side mattresses, "I like our new sleeping arrangements," he grinned, "Very cozy."

Aayla looked a little embarrassed, "It was for practical purposes. It was the only way I could think of to keep you in bed, Commander."

"Bly."

Aayla raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Considering we are now sleeping together, I think it would be best if you called me Bly," Bly said in a very serious tone.

At Aayla's frown, Bly burst out into laughter. Then, he stopped, holding his side.

"Owwwww," he said.

Aayla got up and pulled supplies out of the med cabinet. She shook her head at him, "Perhaps you should stop laughing at me all the time."

Then, she thought about what she had said, "No, belay that. I need your laughter right now."

Bly grew serious, "What did you find out?"

Aayla knelt down next to him, and removed the sling from around his neck. Bly leaned his head forward to make it easier for Aayla to remove the sling.

She began unwrapping his arm wound. Bly focused on Aayla, intentionally trying to focus his mind away from the fire in his arm. Even the slight pressure of her unwrapping the wound was enough to make him grit his teeth. Fierfek, this wound was driving him crazy.

"Nothing good," Aayla said, wanting to leave it at just that.

Bly lifted Aayla's chin using his good hand.

"Aayla," he prompted.

Aayla still loved hearing the way her name sounded in Bly's rich deep voice. She met his eyes. He was waiting for a response.

"Aayla," he prompted again, "what did you find out?"

Aayla sighed and said quickly without looking up from what she was doing, "Palpatine betrayed, well, everyone. He's grand Emperor of- anything and everything now. It was all just a big set-up right from the start. It was designed so clones would take out their Jedi Generals, and clear the way for Palpatine."

Bly shook his head, "That slimy, creepy, backstabbing, no good-"

Aayla sensed Bly was about to launch into another display of his impressive cursing skills. So, she halted him, "Bly, there's more."

Bly immediately quieted, and waiting patiently for Aayla to continue. Aayla took a deep breath. Her lower lip began to tremble. She bit down on it. Bly put a steadying hand on her arm. Aayla met his gaze, nodded, and then continued. The words began jumbling out of her in a torrent, "They burnt the Temple...and killed the Younglings...and, maybe burnt them, too,... well, they were probably dead, first, I don't know for sure...The Jedi and the clones, they just kept killing each right inside the Temple itself. Head shots. Just the way they kill droids. But, these were organic heads that were exploding. I trained some of those clones. **I** turned them into Jedi killers. It was **me.** **I** turned them into the perfect Jedi killing machines. And, then the fire-" Aayla's voice hitched, "-the fire," her fingers suddenly felt clumsy. The supplies she was holding simply dropped out of her fingertips onto the floor, "-a fire..."

Bly pulled her into toward his chest, using his good arm, regardless of the pain it caused his other injuries. Aayla felt so humiliated that she was crying again. How much was she going to cry today? She was a Jedi, after all! Jedi didn't cry like this!

She pulled back slightly from Bly's chest so she could look up at his face, "They burned the Temple, Bly... It's the only home I've ever known. I thought it would stand forever! No matter where I went, or what I did, the Temple would always be there for me! It would stand forever as a symbol of peace and order and stability! It was my safe place! And, they burned it, Bly! _**They - burned - it!**_ " she shouted the last words, and then buried her face again. She felt humiliated by her tears, such a sign of weakness, but she could not get them to stop coming.

Bly held Aayla tightly, letting her work out her rage and frustration. After a while, he began to gently rub her back with his one good arm, making soothing little circles. Aayla had to admit it felt surprisingly good. No one had ever soothed her like this- not even when she was a child. After all, nobody comforted younglings at the Temple. They praised. They corrected. They taught. But, there was no comforting. It just wasn't done. She had a strong hunch that nobody comforted little clones at Kamino either. _So, how was it that noble warriors, like Bly, ended up coming out of a place like Kamino?_

"Thank you," she said, pushing back from his chest, "you've always been there when I've needed you," she looked meaningfully at his injuries, "You've especially been there when I've needed you."

Bly shrugged off the compliment, and then grimaced at the pain the gesture caused. Aayla gave him a concerned look, but Bly shook his head, "I'm OK."

"Bly, I need to ask you something," she said. She pulled away a little bit from Bly so she could focus on the conversation more easily.

Bly gazed at her curiously.

"Whatever it is, I'm pretty sure the answer is yes," Bly said, the warm teasing light back in his eyes.

"Bly, this is serious."

"OK," Bly said, trying to look serious.

"OK," Aayla took a deep breath, "Order 66."

Bly instantly got serious, "What about it?"

Aayla struggled to find the right words. This was incredibly difficult, "The other clones... they obeyed the order."

"Yeah, they did. And...?" Bly prompted, although Aayla could see she was getting into dangerous territory. Bly was getting defensive. Her questioning was implying the other clones had done their duty while Bly hadn't. Aayla paused, struggling again for words, "The other clones- they shot their Jedi Generals. But, you didn't... Why?"

Bly sucked in a breath, and then stared at her for a moment. He shook his head slowly. He pulled back further from her, putting more distance between them. Finally, he said: "Answer me this, Aayla Secura. Are you ever going to see me as more than just a clone?"

Aayla looked at him, shocked: "Bly, of course I see you as more than just a clone. I-"

"No," Bly interrupted, "you don't."

"Bly, of course-"

"Then, why are you so surprised that I would make a choice not to shoot you?"

"Because I still don't fully understand why-"

"Exactly!" Bly's eyes flashed, "You don't understand why I didn't react exactly like the others. This implies you still see me as just another copy of a man- and, not a man, at all."

"Bly, no, that's not true!" Aayla instantly objected.

Aayla could see she'd dredged up some deep-rooted issues here, feelings that probably went beyond her original question.

"You know, you Jedi had it all wrong," Bly said, stabbing a finger in her direction, "you should have been the ones with the droid army. Emotionless droids for the emotionless Jedi. You would have gotten along great together. No difficult concepts like individuality. What a bunch of di'kut jet'tise..."

At that point, Bly started muttering under his breath in so many different languages, that she lost track of what he was saying. But, the intent of his words was very clear. With a pained grunt, he got to his feet, his injured leg wavering under the strain.

"Bly!" Aayla jumped up, grabbing his good arm to steady him, "what are you doing?"

Bly completely ignored her, pulling his arm free. He turned his back on her - the first time he had ever done so in the entire time she had known him. He limped toward the forward cabin, still muttering under his breath. He couldn't move fast, but then again, it wasn't a very big ship.

"Wait! Bly!" Aayla called after him.

Bly ignored her completely. He was still working his way through his impressively colorful vocabulary.

"I haven't finished with your arm!" Aayla called after him, her words hanging in the air - sounding lame and empty.

Without turning back around, Bly held up his good arm, and demonstrated some impressive hand gestures that went along with his impressive vocabulary. Aayla stared after him, open-mouthed. She'd never seen him lose his temper before. Bly had also never been disrespectful to her before.

Bly entered the forward cockpit and closed the door. He locked it, making sure he made a lot of noise when he did so. He leaned against the door for a moment. Not that a lock would keep out a Jedi, but, it was the symbolism of locking Aayla out - his commanding officer. _Insubordination. Grounds for a court-martial_, Bly thought with a snort, _except she's supposed to be dead, and I'm supposed to be the one to have killed her._

Clones killing Jedi. After ten years of training to serve the Jedi, and three years of fighting a war alongside them, it was such a strange concept to fathom. Bly wondered if he was lying dead on Felucia, because this all seemed too surreal to actually be the new actual order of the universe. He stared out the forward view port at the ugly little rock of a planet, trying to get his head together. _No, I always imagined dead to be a nicer place than this._

After a few minutes of standing there, staring out the view port, Bly's injured leg began to tremble. Bly sank down into the pilot's chair, and then stared at the ship's control panel. How many times had he flown a ship exactly like this one? He looked at the neat, tiny labels under every indicator on the panel - - reminding him of military order and precision. So opposite to how he was feeling right now - chaotic and out-of-control.

He knew it was completely illogical to be mad at the ship, but at the moment, Bly felt even the ship was mocking him. All the Republic markings, and official little military labelings, warnings and instructions all around the cockpit reminded him of the many missions he'd completed- and, glaringly reminded him that he'd probably never fly a mission again. In one split second, Bly had made a decision that had alienated him from everything he'd trained his whole life to do. He was now completely cut-off from all of his brothers. Was it possible he'd made the wrong choice when he'd ignored the order that the others, even that annoying Steely, hadn't hesitated to obey?

Was he _**wrong?**_

Bly twisted around in the chair and stared toward the back cabin.

He hissed in pain as the wound in his side pulled.

"Fierfek!" Bly muttered in frustration, wishing he had something he could throw, kick, punch, shoot, or destroy. In the past, shooting tinnies had always been a good stress reliever. Bly found himself actually wishing there were a few tinnies around.

Bly scratched at the bandage covering his side. He couldn't get a satisfying scratch through the bandage. Bacta was great for accelerating the healing process, but it itched like crazy while it was working. Bly shifted uncomfortably in the chair. His leg throbbed from walking on it, his side itched, his shoulder hurt, and his arm felt like a fiery inferno.

He was a mess, alright. Bly stared at the closed door to the back cabin with annoyance.

Aayla. She was driving him crazy. Bly shifted in the chair, trying to find a comfortable position. The itching, burn and pain of his healing wounds were driving him crazy.

Bly's arm had reached a painful crescendo of burning and itching. He reached down, trying to rub it, or scratch it, or do something. But, just touching it was agonizingly painful. He immediately drew back his fingers when they touched the raw skin. He looked down at his fingers. There was some sort of liquidy substance on his fingers now.

"Oh, that's just great," he murmured, in annoyance. The wound was weeping some sort of liquid now.

He'd left Aayla in such a huff that she hadn't rebandaged his arm. Bly regretted that now because unbandaged his arm hurt even worse. Bly gazed down at his ruined arm, idly wondering if he'd permanently lose use of the arm. It sure looked like the majority of the forearm muscles were deeply damaged, almost all the way down to the bone.

As deep as his arm ached, the ache of missing his brothers, and the familiar comfort and routine of Army life was even worse. He checked the chrono on the control panel, and then imagined exactly what he'd be doing back if he was back in the GAR barracks. Bly tried to fathom what Army life was like now for his brothers since Order 66 has been implemented.

Bly cradled his arm to his chest, trying his best to mentally tune out the incessant burning and itching. Bly switched on the HoloNews channel, and reclined the pilot's chair back. It was starting to get cold in the cockpit without the engines on, and without the customary protection of his bodysuit. But, he'd be damned if he'd go into the back for a blanket. He'd rather shiver. And, ache.

Bly wondered if he could repair his bodysuit. It had a lot of burn holes in it, basically the whole right side... Was his armor salvageable? But, where was he going to wear his yellow ARC armor, anyway? He was no longer a member of the Army. _I disobeyed a direct order form the chancellor. What did I think would happen to me? If I'm not in the Army, then what am I? I have no money, no I.D., and I am not considered a citizen of the Republic. I'm a traitor to my own brothers. If I'm not a soldier, then what am I?_

_This would be so much easier if I could talk it through with some of my brothers. I've never been separated from my brothers before, ever. Not for any amount of time. This is so strange, just acting as a person of one, rather than as one of many._

He stared toward the back cabin again with annoyance. _Although, __according to her kind, I will never be anything more than one of millions of identical little robot-men, created to do a Jedi's bidding, nothing more. Yeah, and it was that kind of limited thinking that led to your downfall. Stupid Jedi. _Bly snorted,_ No wonder the clones took you out so easily._

Bly shook his head, burying his face in his one good hand. What was that smell? He looked around the cockpit. There was a little pile of partially dried up vomit on the floor. _OK, that's just gross._ If he had the energy, he would've cleaned it up. But, then he thought better of it. He was tired of doing all the Jedi's dirty work. So, he just left it there. Then, he noticed Aayla's light saber sitting abandoned on the floor on the opposite side of the room. He'd never seen her parted from it before. He found it strangely disturbing that she wasn't wearing it. He had a strange urge to pick it up, walk in the back, and put it back on her belt. He resisted the urge. _No! I'm tired of serving the Jedi!_ He forced his attention back to the HNN broadcast, ignoring Aayla's abandoned lightsaber.

Bly turned his attention back to the HoloNet news. Palpatine had declared himself "Emperor." The newscasters were talking about this development, but seemed more interested in speculating about the changes in the Palpatine's physical appearance. So, while they did mention the "Chancellor has a new title," they were much more interested in their secondary story - speculating about possible causes for Palpatine's "new look," - such as botched cosmetic surgery. They showed photos of Palpatine over the years, implying he'd had cosmetic surgeries in the past, and this was responsible for his distinctively shaped nose. This latest "look" for Palpatine was the result of his trying to reshape his distinctive "Palpatine nose."

Bly briefly touched the bridge of his own nose, worried for a moment if his nose was somehow inadequate. Then, he shook his head in amazement at how stupid the news coverage could be at times. He switched over to the competing news channel. They were also talking about the recent political changes, but seemed to be taking the matter a bit more seriously. They brought in some academics to explain the difference between a "Republic" and an "Empire."

Bly felt a momentary stab of panic. So, where did that leave the all the soldiers of the Grand Army of the **Republic**? So, without a "Republic," was there even a need for an army anymore? If creepy old Palps didn't need an Army anymore, would he terminate the clones? It was one of the possibilities they discussed sometimes back in the barracks, what's going to happen to us when the war is over? What do you do with millions of men, created just to fight a war, when that war was over? Yeah, well the war is over. So, what happens to the clones now? Bly's stomach tied itself in knots as he worried over the fate of all his brothers. He stared down again at the pile of barf. _OK, that really stinks._

Bly looked up at the screen again as he heard the words "501st Legion." Bly had several buddies in the 501st. What is happening with them? What the frak are they doing? He watched a cloaked figure lead the 501st up the steps of the Jedi Temple. Bly thought he could make out Commander Appo right behind the cloaked figure. Where was Captain Rex? Why wasn't he leading the 501st?

For a moment, Bly felt an adrenaline surge as he wondered if Rex had made the same choice he did, and chosen not to execute his Jedi General. He knew Rex got along pretty well with Skywalker, even if he did say Skywalker was one hydrospanner short of being totally insane. He also liked working with that other one- what's her name? That tiny little Togruta- Skywalker's padawan. Bly coudn't recall her name, but remembered Rex was very protective of her. He didn't tolerate the other clones leering at her, even though she wore those inadequate little outfits, rather than regular armor, or Jedi clothing. Did he shoot her when 66 came down? Or, was there a reason why Rex was suspiciously absent from this little 501st house call on the Jedi Temple?

Bly wondered if he was reading too much into it. Maybe Rex was just busy killing Jedi somewhere else in the galaxy, and couldn't make it back in the time for the Temple Barbeque.

Bly shivered in the chair, wondering if the temperature in the ship was dropping, or if he was just getting cold. He numbly watched the news replay the Temple coverage over and over.

He stared at the cloaked figure marching so determinedly ahead of Commander Appo - like a dark demon on a date with destiny.

It was so eerily creepy to watch that Bly couldn't look away, no matter how many times he saw it. He knew this was voyeuristic TV, but he couldn't help himself.

Who was that cloaked figure? No self-respecting clone would ever dress like that. A kama was about as fancy as a clone ever got. Jedi tended to go for the haberdashery with their clokes and robes.

So, who was that cloaked figured leading the 501st. Up until Order 66, all clone battalions were assigned to Jedi Generals. But, Bly checked the timeframe on the news clip - this was footage taken **after** Order 66 had been dispatched. At least, it was after Bly had received the Order. He assumed all his fellow Commanders received the Order simultaneously.

Bly shivered, more from having a bad flashback to the next few seconds after Order 66, than from the temperature of the room. For a few uncomfortable moments, Bly was completely trapped in the memory of the rifles firing and the shots hitting his body. He felt his arm burning, and then a sense of suffocating as he fell into the red sand of Felucia. Bly took several deep breaths, ignoring the pain in his side from doing so.

_Focus._.. _You're not lying on Felucia, anymore..._

Bly snapped back to the present moment, and slowly resumed his previous train of thought.

Jedi. Order 66. Temple. Cloaked figure. Who? So, the Jedi had already been declared traitors. And, why would a Jedi march on his own temple? Yet, who else would be leading a clone battalion? And, who killed the Jedi younglings?

As Bly numbly watched the coverage, he wondered if his clone brothers had executed the younglings. He tried to picture it in his mind. He'd been in the Temple with Aayla, and seen the miniature Jedi they called younglings. Their small stature, earnestness, and less developed skillsets reminded him of the 'ones' and 'twos' at Kamino. While at Kamino, he enjoyed seeing the little ones train. He found them entertaining. He'd hoped to become a trainer when he was done with his combat duties. _So much for that plan._ The thought of dispatching little ones made him uneasy. Had Appo and the 501st been given such an order?

His mind flashed back to Palpatine's voice echoing in his head: "Execute Order 66."

Palpatine was the commander-in-chief of the armed forces. But, it was more than that. There was something about his voice that was seductive, it made him want to obey the order, like an obsessive desire. Bly rubbed at his temple with his one good arm, trying to get Palpatine's voice out of his head.

_Yes, as seductive as his voice was, I still chose not to obey._

He wondered if any other Commanders had chosen not to execute their Generals. Surely he couldn't have been the only one not to participate in this crazy mass assassination?

_Yes, I am a clone._

_But, I'm not a droid._

_Why doesn't Aayla get the difference?_

_Why can't she open her eyes and see the real me?_

Bly looked up at the HNN newscast rehashed the same story over and over again, the "Massive Jedi Betrayal," and the subsequent crackdown by the military on all Jedi. Bly watched the newscast with bleary, bloodshot eyes, looking for any new information. HNN interviewed different citizens, mainly on Coruscant and then, "experts," as they all told how they'd suspected the Jedi all along.

_Yeah, kick them while they're down. It's so easy to do, isn't it? We all hate the Jedi now, do we? They tell you what to think, and you just parrot it back like good little model citizens. Who are the real clones in this society?_

Bly studied his one working hand - wondering if he could have pulled the trigger on Aayla. His hand began trembling as he stared at it.

_I am a man._

_I am a clone._

_(But, that doesn't make me any less of a man.)_

He glanced toward the door the separated the front cabin from the rear room of the ship. _Even if she doesn't return my feelings, at least, I kept her alive._

He clenched his hand into a fist to stop it from trembling.

He sighed sadly. Bly rested his head against the back of the seat. After numbly watching the newscast for a few more minutes, watching the 501st march up those stairs again and again, Bly slumped off to sleep.

# # #


	5. Chapter 5 I am yours

**"More Than Just A Clone"**

**Chapter 5**

In the back cabin, Aayla was staring at the closed door through which Bly had just left.

She heard the click of the lock- Bly was intentionally shutting her out, and it was the breaking point for her. Aayla collapsed down on the mattress. So many thoughts swirling around in her head that she couldn't seem to pinpoint down any of them.

She flopped over onto her stomach, and grabbed the cheap, lumpy, Republic-issue pillow. It was the side of the bed that Bly had been lying on, and it smelled like him. At the moment, he smelled like a battlefield. Sweat, blood, a discharged rifle, burnt flesh, self-adhering bandages and bacta. And, underneath that all, was the musky scent that was uniquely Bly. Aayla had grown used to that scent over the past three years. She could pick it up in a room before she even spotted Bly. Aayla inhaled all of these scents, breathing them in, and finding them comforting. She knew that Twi'ileks were biologically programmed to be comforted by the scent of their mate.

Hold on! Back up? My mate?

Aayla sat bolt upright, and stared at the thin, lumpy, ugly grey pillow with the black Republic logo stamped on it. As she stared at it, she felt like she was finally seeing what had been in front of her face for the past three years. Bly was so much more than her closest friend. So much more than someone she found physically and sexually attractive, (yes, in a sea of identical men.) He was _**hers**_**.**She'd been constantly fighting her attraction to Bly, always pushing him away. She'd kept hiding her emotions away, locked behind a set of archaic Jedi rules and principles.

But, the Jedi were gone now. And, Bly wasn't. Aayla needed to let go of the old, and embrace what was right in front of her, before she lost it forever. She realized how blind, and foolish she had been. Aayla closed her eyes, needing to meditate. Yes, OK, maybe she hadn't given up all of her Jedi ways. But, she was already forming a plan in her mind...

Hours later, Aayla crept quietly into the front cabin.

Bly was sound-asleep, half in the chair, half falling out of it. His injured arm was hanging down, and it was oozing something that made it apparent it needed to be treated. Aayla studied him for a moment. She wanted to get him back to his bed. She wondered if there was a way she could treat his arm, and get him back to his bed without waking him.

She went into the back, and arranged all the medical supplies next to the bed. Then, she went back into the forward cabin, and gently lifted Bly out of the chair. He immediately snapped awake. His eyes instantly swept everything in the room, and then settled on Aayla. He regarded her intensely, unsmiling, and unspeaking.

"We need to talk," Aayla said.

Bly didn't say anything, just continued to regard her. Aayla found the silence unnerving. Aayla met his eyes for a long moment, feeling herself heating up under his intense regard. She self-consciously licked her lips, and saw his gaze staring at her lips. Aayla tore her gaze away, and carefully lifted him up. She was shocked when she felt how icy his skin temperature had become.

"You're freezing! You shouldn't have stayed up here so long!" Aayla lectured.

Bly didn't say anything. He didn't object to Aayla lifting and carrying him to the back, but he did groan when one of her hands accidentally put pressure on his wounds.

"Sorry!" Aayla said.

Bly didn't respond, just continued to regard her intently.

Aayla sighed. She supposed the clones had been well-versed in the if-you-can't-say-something-nice, don't-say-anything-at-all school of etiquette. It would explain why she never saw clones arguing. Aayla set him back down on his mattress, then made a great show of fluffing his pillow. Bly's lips quirked into a small smile. Aayla then made a great show of tucking him in with the blanket, and once again saw his lips quirking up in a smile. Once she had him completely settled in, fluffed pillow, perfectly tucked blanket, she noticed he was drifting off to sleep again.

"I don't know what you were thinking staying up in that cold cabin," Aayla admonished.

Bly didn't respond, and Aayla didn't really expect a response. Aayla lifted up Bly's badly injured arm. Bly's eyes snapped open, and he hissed in pain, reflexively, trying to draw his arm back.

"Hey! I'm sorry, Commander, but it needs to be done."

Bly's eyebrows went up, noticing that she used his formal title again.

"You're own fault," Aayla admonished, "for being such a stubborn -"

Bly closed his eyes again, tuning her out. Aayla sighed. She carefully cleaned his arm, trying to be as gentle as possible. She was completely tuned in to his pain signals, through the Force. She'd always felt a special connection to Bly, and her Force abilities allowed her to keep track of him even when they were in battle. She always had a heightened awareness when he was around.

"Sorry, didn't mean that," she said, gently, "I know you're uncomfortable, and, in pain, and it's all because of me. I'm not quite myself at the moment... I'm sorry, Bly."

Aayla focused on her task. When she looked up, Bly was looking at her again.

"You need to stay in bed, though, OK?" she said, gently. She pointed to small red streaks that were spreading from his arm wound up to the shoulder wound. "This is the start of an infection. I've treated it, for now, and I'll continue to treat it. But, something like this could be very dangerous. You must rest, stay in bed, and keep your burns properly wrapped. Otherwise, I will take you to a medical center."

"No!" Bly objected, finally breaking his silence.

Aayla covered the whole area with bacta, and then carefully rebandaged his arm.

"Yes, well, then you need to stop wandering all over the ship and stay in bed like you are supposed to," Aayla lectured.

Aayla pulled two syringes from the medical kit, and injected him twice in the upper arm. Bly gasped as the needles penetrated the burnt tissues in his arm. He felt his eyes tear up from the pain of the injection. Aayla shot him such a look of caring that Bly could see the depth of her feelings for him.

"That's an antibiotic, and a painkiller. I'm sorry it hurts," she said, softly. She worked on changing the bandage on his shoulder.

Within a few minutes, Bly could feel the warmth and pain-killing relief from the shot spreading through both his injured arm and shoulder. He began to relax, and closed his eyes.

Aayla carefully changed the bandages on Bly's mid-section and leg, trying to disturb him as little as possible. She wasn't sure if Bly was still awake anymore. But, she still had to say what she needed to say.

"You're smart. You're funny. You're handsome. You're my best friend, and you've always been there when I needed you," Aayla said quietly.

Aayla resisted the urge to reach out and hold Bly's hand. She didn't want to intentionally wake him up. It had been cold in the forward cabin, so Bly probably hadn't gotten a lot of sleep.

"You've always been much more than a clone to me, Bly," Aayla continued, "you changed my perception of clones right from the first day I met you."

Bly's eyes opened, and he immediately met her eyes. He was awake. He'd heard everything. Bly sat up slowly and carefully, waving off Aayla's attempts to help him. He regarded Aayla curiously, waiting to hear what else she had to say.

Aayla sighed, looking down at her hands.

"It hasn't been easy these past three years - keeping my distance - treating you as if I felt nothing for you..."

She looked up and met Bly's eyes.

"Bly, I always noticed you were different. It was part of what attracted me to you. But, I never felt I could do anything about it."

Bly raised an eyebrow as Aayla continued to speak.

"There's something I have been wanting to do - for a long time," Aayla confessed, looking at Bly's lips, "if you'll allow it."

Bly's eyes widened. Aayla leaned in toward Bly. Bly leaned toward Aayla. He felt awkward, all of a sudden, which he found to be odd, since he spent so much time thinking about it.

Aayla continued to look at Bly's lips, and then she ran her tongue nervously over her lips. Bly stared at her tongue, watching the path it made over her lips.

Aayla closed her eyes. She finally crossed the distance between them.

Bly was a little startled by the sensation of kissing Aayla, which he also found to be odd, since he'd been kissed before.

By Aayla.

When she thought he was dead.

But, this was different. This was intentional kissing.

By two people- both of whom definitely were not mistaken for being dead.

They were both nervous, and excited, and it charged the air between them.

The kiss was tentative at first, as if they were just tasting each other.

But, after that first taste, the kiss quickly took hold. Bly emitted a possessive growl deep in his throat.

He pulled Aayla closer to him, claiming her. When they finally broke apart, Bly stared at Aayla, wondering if this would end now, or if she wanted to continue. Aayla placed her hand on Bly's bare chest.

Bly shivered at her touch. Aayla pulled back.

"Bly, you need to rest."

Bly felt like he needed a lot of things at that moment, but rest was not foremost in his mind.

"Rest," she told him again, pushing him down into his pillow, and lying down next to him, "I'll be here when you wake up."

Bly pulled her into the crook of his good shoulder. He kissed her on the top of her head.

"Less talking - more kissing," he said, running one of his fingertips playfully across her top lip.

Aayla laughed, kissing his hand, relieved he was back to being the charming, playful Bly that she knew so well.

"Bly, go to sleep!" she admonished.

Surprisingly, he did, and slept for many hours. Aayla checked him several times to make sure he was OK. His pulse was strong, and he wasn't running a fever. His body was just healing.

Aayla tracked down two ready-to-eat meals from the galley, and two pouches of water. She was sure Bly would be hungry when he finally woke up. She'd had enough sleep, so she reclined against her pillow and just watched Bly sleep. She'd never watched anyone sleep before.

He was a beautiful man. His features were exotic, he was thickly muscled from shoulder to calf, and his black hair stood out in sharp contrast to his olive skin. He was gorgeous. And, he was... growing? Aayla gasped, then flushed red. Her eyebrows raised, and she felt like laughing, staring and averting her eyes, all at the same time.

Bly was dreaming of Aayla. He dreamt of her all the time. Ever since he'd been assigned as her Commander, and he'd noticed her many, er, attributes, he'd been having these dreams about her. In the dreams, they were together. They were both naked, and she just couldn't get enough of one Commander Bly. He'd had to request private quarters shortly after he started working with Aayla. He wouldn't be the first clone to wake up with a healthy bit of blood flow in the nether regions, but, he didn't particularly want it to become a topic of daily jokes and teasing either. So, he slept alone, and when he was out in the field, he made a habit of always sleeping in his armor. Crotch armor could hide a lot, although it could be very painful at times.

But, he was neither sleeping alone, or in his armor, at the moment.

"Aayla," he murmured in his sleep, dreaming of holding her at just the right angle. He moved his hips suggestively.

"Uh, Bly?"

"Aayla..." he murmured again, shifting a little more.

"Bly."

"Aayla," he said again, with a happy sigh.

"Bly!"

Bly's eyes snapped open. His eyes quickly scanned the room getting his bearings, and then he noticed how intimately he was wrapped around Aayla.

"Sorry," Bly said sheepishly, releasing Aayla and rolling over onto his back.

"Impressive," Aayla said, her eyes glancing down.

" I was, uh, dreaming," Bly murmured, flushing red with embarrassment, and hastily re-adjusting the blankets around his mid-section.

"You dream of me?" Aayla asked, clearly pleased at the prospect.

"Yeah," Bly admitted, still looking embarrassed.

"A lot?"

"Yeah, all the time," Bly admitted, then his face lit up as he thought of something, "hey, have you ever had a dream about... me?"

"No," Aayla said, shaking her head.

Bly looked defeated.

"I have food," Aayla said, looking for something to cheer him up, wondering if perhaps she should have found a more diplomatic way to answer the question about dreams, "are you hungry?"

"Starved," Bly admitted. He easily pulled himself to a sitting position. Aayla noticed he was moving about with considerable less difficulty than before. The blanket slipped when he sat up, and he had to tuck it around his mid-section again. He avoided meeting Aayla's eyes as he did so. Aayla smiled to herself, secretly pleased that she elicited such a strong reaction in Bly.

Aayla popped open the two ready-to-eat meals. They instantly heated themselves when she activated the lids. She held them both before Bly, letting him have first choice. Since he only had one working hand, she set her own meal aside. She held up the meal for him, so he could eat using his one good hand.

"Water?" she asked, holding a pouch up for him, so he could take a sip. She could tell he was still a bit frustrated that he couldn't do all of these things for himself. After they ate, she changed the bandages on all of his wounds. Everything seemed to be healing beautifully except for the arm wound. It looked like the bacta was trying to repair the wound, but there just wasn't enough muscle tissue left for repairs to happen - the whole area was just scarring over.

"Can you feel that?" she asked, touching the inside of his palm on his injured hand.

Bly shook his head.

"Well, it's only been a few days," Aayla said brightly, "let's give it more time." She wrapped the whole thing up again, sealing everything tightly.

She took the empty food trays, and bandages, and tossed everything in the disposal in the galley. When she returned, Bly was examining his stack of armor, and the remains of his bodysuit.

"Just in case I need it again," he said.

"Of course," she answered immediately.

Although they both knew the galaxy had changed irrevocably over the past week. Aayla wanted to tear Bly's attention away from staring at his ARC armor.

"You've eaten, you've slept. I'll bet I know what you want to do now!" Aayla said to Bly.

Bly raised his eyebrows, looking at Aayla in surprise. He quickly set the armor aside.

"A shower!" Aayla announced brightly.

"Oh," Bly answered, looking disappointed. Aayla wondered why he looked so disappointed.

"For a ship this size, it actually has a decent refresher," she said, "you'll feel much better after a good shower."

She helped him up and over to the refresher.

"All your bandages are sealed, so don't worry about that," she said. "Can you manage, or do you need me to go in with you?"

Bly snorted, mumbling something about "no actual showering would get done..."

He closed the refresher door, leaving Aayla on her own outside. While Bly showered, Aayla took the time to tidy up the ship, and straighten up the bed. In a strange way, the ship was already beginning to feel like home. Aayla found herself humming under her breath.

The refresher door opened, and Bly emerged with just a towel wrapped around his lower half. He'd shaved, and his thick black hair was combed back into place. Water still glistened in a few spots off his well-muscled chest.

He looked incredibly masculine. Aayla sucked in her breath.

"You're staring," Bly said.

Aayla smiled, blushing a little.

Bly cocked his head to the side, "You know, you turned a deeper shade of blue when you blush like that."

Aayla laughed, "Come on, let's get you back to bed."

She wrapped her arm around Bly's waist, helping him back over to the bed. She was very aware that he was dressed only in a towel. His skin was still slightly damp, and was scented with soap. She found all the sensations and scents to be most distracting. She stumbled, and they both tumbled down onto the mattress. Aayla quickly used the Force to break their fall, to avoid injuring Bly any further.

They came slowly floating down to the mattress. Aayla came down first, and Bly ended up right on top of her.

"Are you OK?" Aayla immediately asked, "I'm sorry about that! My fault!"

Bly couldn't speak. He was too busy laughing.

"What?" Aayla asked.

Bly's towel had come off in the fall. He was butt naked, on top of her.

"Oh," she said, and then she started laughing, too.

Bly looked down into her face, and began tracing the outline of her eyes with his fingertips, "You're absolutely beautiful when you laugh like that."

She gazed up at him, a smile still on her face. She reached one hand up, and began exploring the contours of his face. He closed his eyes briefly, enjoying the sensation.

"You are an incredibly beautiful man," she murmured. She took both hands and ran them through his hair. Bly moaned with pleasure.

Bly traced the outline of her lips with his fingertips. Then, pulled back a little, staring at her for a long moment, searching her eyes, "Aayla, I want to make you mine. Do you know what that means?"

Aayla nodded, her eyes growing wide with both trepidation, and anticipation, "Yes."

"I need to hear you say it," Bly said, "I don't want there to be any room for doubts."

Aayla felt a delicious thrill run through her at his words, "You want to make love to me."

Bly placed one hand possessively on her hip, and then looked into her eyes with the same seriousness and focus he used on the battlefield, "Once I make you mine, it's going to be forever. There is no going back from this, Aayla."

"You're my lifemate, Bly. And, yes, this is what I want," Aayla reached her hand down, grabbing Bly's hip, and pulling his body as close to hers as possible,.

Bly growled and placed his lips over hers. As he pulled her tight up against him, she could feel how ready he was for her. She gasped.

"Aayla," Bly started, a little embarrassed, "have you ever- er, is this is your first time?"

"It is my first time," Aayla admitted.

"It's mine, too," Bly breathed a huge sigh of relief, "We clones talk about sex a lot, but few have actual field experience."

Aayla laughed at his terminology.

"I have no field experience in this, either, Bly," Aayla assured him.

"So, you won't have a reference point, then, if I'm really bad at this."

Aayla laughed at his self-consciousness, "No, I wouldn't know the difference."

Bly smiled with relief, and their eyes met and locked. He reached a hand up, and Aayla did the same. Their hands touched, palm-to-palm. Bly leaned forward, intent on kissing Aayla, but then winced as he came down on his arm the wrong way.

Aayla looked at him with concern, resting a hand gently on his shoulder, "Bly, are you sure you're up for this?"

Bly looked down, "Oh, I'm up for this alright," Bly said, giving her a cocky grin. His eyes glanced down at where their bodies were now bumping together, and now back up at her face.

Aayla laughed.

"Oh, you think that's funny, do you?" Bly said, teasing evident in his voice, "downright painful wearing this under armor!"

"And, that's my fault?" Aayla asked, finally giving in to her urge to run her fingers through his black hair.

"Uh huh," Bly murmured, now distracted by the sensation of Aayla running her hands through his hair.

"You've got amazing hair," Aayla said.

"I do," Bly agreed, with a happy sigh, relishing the feeling of Aayla still running her fingers through his hair, "I really do."

Aayla reached her arms up to pull her tunic up and over her head.

Bly stopped her mid-motion, "If we start going too fast, let me know. I want to do right by you. This being my first time, I'm open to constructive criticism."

Aayla wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, overwhelmed by his consideration for her. Any fear she had about what they were about to do dissolved at that moment. She had complete trust in Bly, and their newly formed relationship as a couple. She shimmied out of the rest of her clothing, meeting Bly's gaze the whole time.

Aayla took the time to look at Bly in his fully aroused state. "Wow," she said, breathlessly.

"Genetically perfect," Bly said, with a teasing grin.

Injured or not, Bly was ready to be with Aayla. He made sure the majority of his weight was all on his 'good side,' so that his body weight wasn't pressing down on his healing injuries. He kept himself tilted slightly on an angle to keep his injured arm out of the way.

He positioned his body on top of Aayla, with a charming smile, and a sparkle in his eyes that she hadn't seen since probably the first year of the war. Aayla stared up at him in wonder, caressing the side of his face.

"Why did we wait so long to do this?" she asked softly, more to herself than him.

"Damned if I know," Bly growled, "I sure woulda' liked the war better if we'd done more of this."

Their lips met and locked, dancing together in a passionate play. Bly found himself kissing Aayla up and down her neck, and then gently nibbling her sensitive leiku. Aayla gasped in pleasure, arching her body up against him. She grasped his buttocks, trying to pull him closer and closer to her.

"Bly," she said restlessly, rubbing her hips up against his. Bly brought his mouth back down to hers again and look into her eyes.

"Aayla," Bly breathed out, seeking her lips.

"Bly," Aayla said, returning his kiss. Then, she broke away from the kiss for one moment to hold his face in her hands and loudly say, "I, Aayla Secura, declare you, Commander, Bly, my life mate."

Bly looked down at her in surprise, and grinned, "Did you just **marry** me?"

Aayla blushed beautifully, and happily, "By Twi'lek standards, yes... But, there is a catch."

Bly sighed dramatically, "There's always a catch."

Aayla gave him a playful punch on his good shoulder, "You have to declare me as your soulmate."

Bly stopped joking around for once, and looked into Aayla's eyes: "Aayla Secura, as I join my body with yours, I declare you my true soulmate. My lifemate. I will gladly lay my life down for you."

Aayla's eyes filled with tears, "Oh, Bly."

Now, it was Bly's turn to look embarrassed. But, he brushed her tears away with his fingertips, "OK, so, now are we married? Did we just have a Twi'ilek wedding?"

Aayla nodded happily.

"Oh, boy!" Bly said happily, bringing his lips down to hers, talking between kisses, "does that mean we get to do this all the time?"

Aayla laughed, "Yes, Bly, it does."

"Oh, I think I'm going to enjoy being a married man..." Bly said, as they began exploring each others' bodies.

Aayla laughed, and then pulled him down to her, "Less talking, more kissing."

# # #

Author's Notes: I re-wrote the love scene between Aayla and Bly again. Yes, this is the third time. I am trying to be very responsive to reviewer comments. One of the early reviewers said there was "not enough detail" in the love scene. So, I added more detail. A couple more reviewers said the story would be better off as "Rated T" than "Rated M," so I bumped it down to "T." Then, a recent comment said the love scene had "too much detail" for a story that was "Rated T." So, I rewrote the scene again.

As Ernest Hemingway once said, "the first draft of anything is sh-. Rewrite. Rewrite. Rewrite." (That was the favorite expression of one of my English professors in college. OK, granted it was a college course about Hemingway, but I thought it was a good quote, since so much of good writing is all about **re-writing**.)


	6. Chapter 6 Together

**"More Than Just A Clone"**

**Chapter 6**

Later, as Aayla came back to her senses after their first bout of lovemaking, she noticed Bly looking down at her with a cocky grin on his face. "Not bad, especially considering it was our first time, eh?"

Aayla laughed, loving the look of happiness and satisfaction on Bly's face. "I'm not going to hear the end of this, am I?" she said, poking him playfully in his well-muscled chest.

Bly pretended to consider the question. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Mmmmm... er, yes,... well, no. Not until the second time, I suppose. Then, at least, I'll have a point of comparison."

"Second time?" Aayla said, looking exasperated, "I'll need at least a week to recover from this first time, Bly! You have an incredible imagination when it comes to angles and positions! Honestly! You're supposed to be recuperating from your injuries!"

Bly looked truly distressed, "A week? No, no, no. This **is** helping me recuperate! It's, uh... physical therapy!"

"OK, OK, maybe in three days," Aayla said, a hint of teasing still in her voice.

"Three days?" Bly still looked exasperated.

"OK, two days, final offer," Aayla said.

Bly sighed, and rolled over onto his back, still looking forlorn.

He stared up at the ceiling, carefully rubbed at his heavily bandaged arm.

His voice took on an overly dramatic tone, "Poor Commander Bly. Got shot **four** times..."

In a very quick move, worthy of a Jedi, Aayla flipped herself so that she was sitting on top of Bly, holding him pinned down.

"Oh, you did **not** just say that!" she said, laughing down at him. "You are not using that against me!"

"Is it working?" Bly asked, not looking all that apologetic. Bly stared up at her, drinking in her features. From this angle, her slim, shapely figure was accentuated even more. She had an incredible body.

Aayla's body was the type that pin-up posters were made of, no, even better, Bly thought. _And, she's all mine_. _No one else gets to look, but me_. Bly sighed happily. It was still hard for him to believe they were actually doing _**this**_. At any point, he still expected to wake up in a GAR barracks somewhere, and face another day of wearing a painful erection under his armor after having had erotic Aayla/Bly dreams all night long. He playfully ran one hand along the outside of her beautifully rounded hip.

"Four times. Poor Commander Bly..." he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Aayla punched him in his good shoulder, "You totally don't play fair!"

Bly chuckled, and then made a sound like DC-15 fire under his breath, four distinct times. He then did a bit of acting, (as much as he could from where he was lying beneath Aayla), acting out getting shot. No, it was more like over-acting, as his acting skills were so over-the-top. Aayla stared at him, both horrified, and annoyed.

"OK, OK, fine! You win!" Aayla said, "just once more, and then you need to get some rest!"

"Well, now this is an interesting position..." Bly said with a smile, enjoying the way Aayla had pinned him down, "and, all my injuries are suddenly feeling much better again. It's a miracle!"

"You are such a manipulative little Jawa," Aayla said, scowling fiercely at him.

Bly just laughed.

"I can't believe you're up for this again, after what we just did!"

Bly frowned, starting to look serious, "If you need to rest, Aayla..."

Aayla realized she'd done it again, and inadvertently gotten Bly worried about her. "No, I'm fine. I'm trying to ensure you're up for all this... activity."

Bly's frown quickly turned into a cocky grin again, "Oh, yes, yes, I always seem to be up for it. Three years of all that thinking about it, you know. We have a lot of lost time to make up for. We're going to have to do this **a lot**."

He used his good hand to reposition Aayla slightly, and show her just how 'ready' his body already was to make love with her again.

"Why don't you just sit **right** here?" Bly said, with a big grin on his face.

"Oh!" Aayla said, blushing furiously as she realized what she was sitting on.

She decided to turn the tables on Bly, and show him who was truly going to be in control in this marriage. Might as well start things off properly. She knew that her people had special telepathic abilities when it came to lovemaking. They could tune in to their partners' feelings - a sort of "love mirroring" - that made everything more intense if done correctly. She tuned in carefully to Bly's feelings this time, and once the connection was established, shared her feelings with him as well.

She looked down at Bly. His teasing look was gone, and he was looking up at her with the same intensity he had during their first lovemaking session. She repositioned her body so he could fully take him back inside her again. He moaned with pleasure when their bodies were full joined once again. She began to explore moving in different directions, and watching how it changed the expressions on Bly's face.

She was able to pull Bly more deeply inside herself when she sensed he wanted to possess her. She was able to increase the tempo when she sensed his excitement increasing. The shared experience heightened her own lovemaking pleasure. She saw and felt everything through his eyes as well as her own. They worked toward reaching a pinnacle of pleasure together. Aayla realized, with a pang of guilt, that she didn't want to control Bly at all. She wanted to be his equal partner, because in doing so, it heightened her own satisfaction in the relationship. Neither of them wanted to get to the peak too soon this second time around, since the shared experience was so incredible. They held back as long as they could, until their bodies cried for release. Finally, they reached the pinnacle together, holding each other, crying out, each experiencing it both from their own perspective, and the other's perspective, both at the same time. The experience was so intense that they were both exhausted afterwards. They both fell immediately asleep afterwards, their bodies still intertwined together.

Aayla woke up several hours later, her body still draped across Bly's chest. She quietly unentangled herself from Bly's embrace, and took a long shower, reflecting on all that had happened in the hours before. She was sore, but not in an entirely unpleasant way. She went up to the front cabin so she could have time alone to meditate. She felt relaxed, and at peace, but still needed some time and space to herself. The front cabin was considerably colder than the back cabin, but the cooler air felt good after all that steamy intensity of the back room.

Aayla welcomed the change of scenery. She needed time to reflect on all these changes in her life. She easily sank into a meditative trance. She let her mind peacefully wander. She felt herself expanding out with the force. At first, she was completely alone in the Force, and it was such a barren emptiness that it broke her heart. There was no corresponding echo back from fellow Jedi. It reminded her of the enormity of her loss, and she wondered how she was going to be able to do this everyday, for the rest of her life, with such barren emptiness in the Force.

But, then, there it was - a ping - a gentle whisper back. With the whisper, came a warning. She sent a quick acknowledgement back that she understood the warning- a warning to close the connection before they were discovered by those that sought to kill the Jedi. Aayla cut the connection. But, she was overjoyed. She now knew that somewhere out there was at least one other Jedi still alive!

She stood up, straightening her spine, and taking a deep breath. For the first time, since this tragedy happened, she felt like she could face the world as a Jedi again.

Her nose wrinkled. What was that smell? Oh. She looked over at the mostly dried little puddle of vomit off to the other side of the room. She really needed to clean that up. She was just about to head to the back for a cleaning solvent, when something else caught her eye.

A glint of metal.

Aayla walked across the room, and knelt down. With tears in her eyes, she picked her light saber back up from where she had flung it days before. She almost felt like asking its' forgiveness for casting it off so readily.

"You forgive me, don't you?" she asked, picking it up reverently. She peered behind her, making sure Bly wasn't in the room. If he was awake, she knew he would make a wisecrack about her talking to her lightsaber.

As she picked it up, it felt alive in her hands, as if it had a life force all its' own. She never realized how much her light saber felt a part of her until she spent a few days without wearing it. She held it against her heart for a few long seconds, just enjoying the feel of its' energy against her own life's energy.

Then, with great reverence, she clipped it back into its' rightful place on her belt. She stood up, lightsaber in place, ready to face whatever challenges might face her and Bly, as a Jedi once again. She might be one of the last of the Jedi, but she was still a Jedi.


	7. Chapter 7 Vader's Fist

**More Than Just A Clone**

**Chapter Seven**

Aayla sat cross-legged on the floor, and watched Bly sleep. Aayla was pleased that he was resting now for such long periods of time. Except for his arm, everything was healing nicely.

When Bly finally awoke, Aayla changed all his bandages again. Bly still had no feeling at all in his lower arm or hand. He'd reassured Aayla it was a small price to pay for keeping her alive. But, it still pained her greatly to know he might be permanently maimed as a result of saving her.

She helped Bly up and into the refresher so he could shower. His leg was healing, but he was still unsteady on his feet when he walked. While he was in the refresher, she decided to surprise him by wiring the back cabin for HNN. Bly had already volunteered to do it, but the last thing she wanted was him up and about prying open panels and rewiring circuits. She directed her attention back to the task at hand, and focused on tying in what was supposed to be a communications screen to the front cabin, to also show entertainment programming. She finished the re-wiring, and then tested her work. The screen booted right up. One of the obnoxious newscasters from HNN popped right up on the screen.

The big news story had shifted slightly from 'the Great Jedi Betrayal,' to news of the newly formed 'Empire.' The 'Emperor' had a new enforcer called 'Vader,' but no one knew who he really was, or where he came from. Coruscant was being renamed as 'Imperial City.'

"You take a little vacation in the Outer Rim, and they change **everything**while you're away!" came a chipper voice from the entrance of the refresher.

"Bly," Aayla said, turning and smiling at him. She helped him limp back to bed.

Aayla went and retrieved two meals from the galley. They ate together and watched HNN.

"I could get used to this," Bly said, leaning companionably up against Aayla as he chewed his food and watched the news, "if you had a million sisters, morale in the Grand Army would go way up."

Aayla laughed, "Well, there's only one of me, so the rest will just have to find their own mates."

It felt so natural to curl up next to Bly now, as if they'd always co-habitated this way.

"How long was I out?" Bly asked, attacking his food with considerable enthusiasm.

"A **long** time. You needed the rest."

Bly chuckled. He then gestured toward the screen, "You've been busy."

They finished their meals as HNN recapped various sports highlights, including inter-galactic Bolo championships. It seems life in the galaxy went on without the Jedi.

"Rex always wanted to form an Inter-Army Bolo League, but we could never get it going," Bly said, gesturing at the screen, as they showed Bolo scores and highlights. "Our schedules were always too erratic, and our turnover rate was just too high. Rex especially was constantly losing guys in the 501st."

Bly shook his head.

"Ah, speak of the devil," Bly said, gesturing with his spork.

With a great deal of drama and excitement, almost like announcing the score of a sports event, the newscaster announced that an uprising against the legitimacy of 'Emperor' Palpatine had just been quelched. 'Vader' had been sent to handle the matter, and accompanying Vader was the 501st Legion.

As the two HNN news hounds discussed the story, both clearly excited at having a new bit of something to chat and speculate about, they showed multiple shots of Vader and the 501st. News holocams were swarming all over the place, so obviously they were not trying to keep the operation a secret.

"I still don't see Rex, do you?" Bly said outloud to Aayla, although he did not really expect an answer. "Why isn't he with the 501st?"

The 501st marched behind Vader with perfectly crisp military precision. It was an awe-inspiring sight, even to someone like Bly, who'd spent his life around nothing but military. One of the newscasters excitedly dubbed the 501st "Vader's Fist." From that point on, every time the cams zoomed in on the 501st, it had the subtitle: "Vader's Fist" on it in bright lettering.

"They look good," Bly murmured, taking another bite of his food. Aayla could tell there was a part of him that wanted to be there with his brothers. The lines of the 501st just kept coming, in perfect crisp military precision. They were truly awe-inspiring.

"Who is - 'Vader?' " Aayla puzzled out loud, but, more to herself, as she tried to figure out who the Emperor's new dark enforcer was.

At first, Bly had wondered why the newscams were even being given such unrestricted access to a military operation, but it all made sense as everything unfolded.

UPRISING AGAINST EMPEROR PALPATINE ON THETA IV

"Oh, no..." Aayala said in shock and horror as she watched the news story unfold. Bly took the tray of food out of her hands, and set it aside. She was staring at the screen in wide-eyed shock, her meal totally forgotten.

Vader and the 501st thundered into the city. The citizens made a small show of trying to shoot at them, and defend themselves, but they never stood a chance. It was clear that no oppositio to Palpatine's new rule would be tolerated. All opposition would be summarily executed - using clone troops as the military might to suppress the civilian population. The civilian population was human, farmers mainly, the population of a small city, of about 50,000 people. Bly watched his brothers carry out their duties with perfectly crisp military precision - exactly like they had been drilled on Kamino.

They truly were perfect killing machines. No one escaped from Vader and the 501st - whole families were wiped out together as they tried to flee.

A tear slipped down Bly's cheek.

He didn't even realize it was there, until he felt Aayla's fingertips on his face. He couldn't remember ever having cried before in his entire life, not even as a child.

Startled, he turned toward her.

"What did we even fight the war for?" he whispered in a tortured voice, "We fought to uphold the Republic! Two million of my brothers died to uphold the Republic! And, after all of that, it comes to this?"

Bly pointed vaguely to the screen.

HNN was now re-showing the 'best' clips of the news story, interspersing it with commentaries from 'experts.'

"I was worried they were going to terminate all my brothers now that the war was over," Bly whispered, "but, instead, they're using my brothers as butchers of those we thought we were dying to defend!"

Bly turned to Aayla, fervor shining in his glistening eyes, "This is going to kill them, Aayla! We spent ten years being trained to fight, to follow orders, and, to protect civilians."

Bly shook his head, as his eyes strayed back to the screen. The 'battle' was over. LAAT-i's were swooping in to pick up the troops. But, Bly could tell from the body language of his brothers that all was not well. His brothers' heads were down, and not with post-battle wearinesss. Their body language said it all.

"Think about it! Being ordered to slaughter civilians? It places two parts of our training directly in conflict with each other. You don't see it from watching this," Bly gestured helplessly at the screen again, "but, beneath the helmet, Aayla, this is doing terrible things to my brothers. This will destroy the clones a lot faster than anything Grievous ever dreamed up."

Bly shuddered as a holocam zoomed in on the visage of Vader.

"And, who the frak is that guy? Weren't all Jedi just ruled to be traitors?"

The holocam pulled back, showing a red light saber clasped in his black-gloved hand.

Aayla gasped, not having noticed the red light saber before. She decided that now was not the time to have a lengthy talk with Bly about the distinction between a 'Jedi' and a 'Sith.'

"Turn it off," Bly said.

He used his good arm and pulled the blanket completely over his head, shutting himself off from the world.

A Sith leading the clone army to slaughter civilians? The state of the galaxy was even worse than she'd thought. Everything had always seemed so vibrant and alive, brimming with force energy.

Aayla sighed, realizing she was letting the disturbing image of the Sith get to her.

She got up, stopped staring at the ugly, dead little planet, and went into the back cabin.

Bly's figure was still huddled completely under the blanket.

Aayla got completely undressed and slipped into the bed. She carefully lifted up part of the blanket and slid underneath.

Bly had fallen asleep again, his face tear-stained and troubled, even in sleep.

Aayla's heart ached just looking at him. She'd never known him to be depressed like this before. It was so out of character for him that it truly frightened her. She carefully curled up against his uninjured side, and fell asleep, hoping things might appear more hopeful after a few hours rest. When she woke up, Bly had wrapped his good arm around her, and was holding her gently against his chest.

She could tell from her force senses that he was awake. She breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn't cut himself off from her completely in his grief and mourning.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly.

"It was all a lie from the beginning, wasn't it?" Bly said softly, in a tortured voice, "my brothers and I, we were created, under false pretenses. Our whole existence is one big galactic lie. There is no honor in being a clone. We weren't created to save the Republic. We were created to destroy it. To shoot people in the back without honor. Three million men- no honor. None of us."

Aayla rolled over so she could look in Bly's eyes.

His eyes were red-rimmed, and she could see the pain, the misery, the doubt and the self-loathing echoing every word he said.

Aayla took his face between her hands.

"Bly, even though the Jedi are dead, I'd like to believe some of the things they stood for will survive," she put a hand over Bly's heart, "I judge you Bly by your heart. Whatever their original intent, you proved that there is so much more. You are not just a clone, Bly. You are not just a copy of a man. You must see that now. That is what I see when I see you. That is why I love you. Trust that the brothers you left behind will discover this in themselves, too."

Bly took a deep, steadying breath.

"I want to be with my brothers again, Aayla. I _**need**___to be with my brothers."

Aayla looked at Bly shocked.

"You want to go back?" she tried to comprehend what Bly was proposing, "we can't go back! We'll be killed..."

"Not Felucia, Aayla," Bly paused for emphasis, "Mandalor."

Aayla studied Bly, trying to take in what he was saying. She knew the clones, particularly the ARC Clones, strongly identified themselves with being Mandalorian. Most were fluent in the language and preferred to speak it when they wanted to vent privately. Aayla had been tempted to spend some time learning Mando'a, but decided against it. She felt her troops deserved some privacy, and this extended to being able to vent freely, if needed.

"But, you've never been to Mandalor," she said, cautiously.

"Do you have a better alternative?" Bly asked, his face taking on the characteristic stubborness it always did when he was challenging her about something.

Aayla wracked her brain, thinking of all the places she'd been, and people she'd known. She had no idea who was still alive, how'd they'd been affected by the changes of the past few days, and if she'd be placing their lives at risk by contacting them.

"No," Aayla admitted.

Bly gripped her hand with his one good one, "I don't know what we'll find there. But, let's check it out, shall we?"

His eyes took on that same gleam that they always did when he was starting to work out the logistics of planning a mission. Bly was particularly good at planning and details.

"Can you get me a datapad? I want to write down what I know, combine it some further research, and then come up with several possible plans for you to review."

Aayla chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Bly asked, reaching a hand out to idly caress her hip.

She shook her head, then ran a hand through his thick, luxurious hair. She didn't think she'd ever tire of the way the silky strands felt against her fingertips.

Bly sighed in pleasure and closed his eyes, enjoying the simple pleasure of the scalp massage.

"I'm glad you don't shave your head," she murmured in admiration, "you've got great hair."

"I do," he said, contentedly, "I really do."

After another minute had passed, his eyes lazily drifted open. "Could you get me that datapad so I could work while you do this?"

Aayla laughed, smacking him in his good shoulder.

"What?" he said, innocently.

"I'm young. I have a lot of energy," Bly said in his defense. "I excel at multi-tasking."

Aayla rose up and searched around for a datapad. Bly watched her, staring fondly at her profile as she bent over to search through a lower cabinet. He sighed happily, and just enjoyed the view.


	8. Chapter 8 Journey to Mandalore

**"More Than Just A Clone"**

**Chapter Eight**

The journey to Mandalore was uneventful. Bly spent the time repairing his bodysuit and armor. Aayla took the time to read up on the planet.

Bly was still sleeping quite a bit, which Aayla was grateful for. She took it as a sign that his body knew what it needed to do to knit itself back together.

"Do you have any ideas for potential landing sites?" Aayla asked, bringing Bly a tray of food.

Bly looked up from the section of his bodysuit that he was trying to patch back together. He was using a glue gun from the ship's toolkit, normally used to patch fabric hoses in the ship's engines.

Bly put down the glue gun, and the bodysuit, and accepted the tray of food. He then had to put the food down as well, since he only had one hand. He couldn't both hold the tray, and scoop food up with a spork at the same time. Realizing this, Aayla reached forward, lifting up the tray for him. Bly sighed, a little huff of annoyance, but accepted the help. Aayla knew Bly wasn't annoyed at her, but just annoyed that he needed help doing something as simple as eating a tray of food.

"No, I don't," Bly admitted between bites, "I was hoping maybe you'd pick something up on your Jedi radar, or perhaps we'd pick something interesting up on the scanners once we got into orbit."

"And, if we don't?" Aayla asked.

"Aayla," Bly growled, looking at her with annoyance.

"Just wondering if you have a Plan B, that's all."

"No, I don't have a Plan B," Bly said, still annoyed, stuffing another bite in his mouth, "but, I don't plan on the whole universe going to pot either so I'm just sort of making this up as we go along, OK?"

Aayla frowned and put a hand up to his forehead.

"What are you doing?" Bly asked, still sounding perturbed.

"You're grumpy today. I just want to make sure you're not running a fever."

"I'm not running a fever!" Bly huffed.

"When you're done eating, I want to see your arm."

"It's fine! I need to finish this. We're landing in a few hours. Here." Bly handed the tray back to her, "I need to get back to work." Bly picked up the glue gun again.

"Do you want me to do it? Are you tired? Do you need to-"

"Aayla!"

Aayla knew when retreat was the wiser course of action. As she was walking away, Bly called after her.

"Aayla..."

"Yes?"

"It'll all work out... Thanks for the food."


	9. Chapter 9 Sensing Danger

**"More Than Just A Clone"**

**Chapter Nine**

"Are you OK?" Aayla asked, looking over at Bly. They were up in the forward cockpit, getting ready to drop out of hyperspace over Mandalore. "We don't need to do this. We could hole up someplace else. Give your injuries more time to heal."

"Aayla, stop your fussing," Bly said with a reassuring smile, "I'm fine."

Bly was once again re-dressed into his customary ARC armor. It had taken a bit of doing getting him re-dressed. There were parts of his armor that were completely destroyed, particularly the right armor and shoulder section. He couldn't have fit his arm into the bodysuit right now anyway, even if any part of it had been left intact. His arm was still bandaged thickly in white from his hand all the way up to his shoulder. But, he'd been able to get back into the rest of the armor, and except for the two distinct holes in his right side and thigh, he looked as imposing as ever in it. He shifted a bit in the chair, trying to get used to the feeling of the armor rubbing up against his bandaged parts.

"You sure you're OK?" Aayla asked, giving him a long, perusing look. He did look very handsome once again dressed in his armor. Bly looked great naked, but he also looked incredibly sexy dressed in his armor. Aayla smiled happily as she looked at him.

"Fine, fine," Bly said, immediately stopping his fidgeting, wondering what Aayla was suddenly smiling about. Bly was in good spirits as well. After several days of being cooped up, he was anxious to be outdoors again. He was also excited about the prospect of finally seeing Mandalor, the homeworld of his genetic ancestor. The place had almost mythical status to clones, particularly the commandos and Nulls. The Nulls. Bly wondered whatever happened to Skirata's crazy pack of Nulls. Would they have obeyed Order 66? What generals were they assigned to anyway? Bly pushed the thoughts out of his head. Trying to think through all the myriad complications of Order 66 always gave him a headaches.

"Coming out of hyperspace in 3, 2, 1,... mark... And, there's Mandalore...It's a very green planet, isn't it?" Aayla remarked, bringing the ship smoothly into orbit over the planet.

"It's not Coruscant, that's for sure," Bly said, monitoring space traffic carefully from the co-pilot's chair. The air space around Mandalore was remarkably quiet. Bly looked up at the forward viewscreen. It was a very green planet. Orbited by two moons, the planet was a picturesque mix of rainforests, ocean, desert, and forests. Bly stared at the screen, with a bit of awe.

"Are you picking up anything on your Jedi radar?"

"I wish you would stop calling it that."

"Ah, I see," Bly put his helmet on and adopted a very official clone sounding voice, "General Aayla, sir! Do your highly-attuned force senses detect any unusual signs of activity?"

Aayla scowled and reached around her pilot's chair something to throw at Bly. She settled upon an emergency flare, stashed in a side compartment. She winged the flare at Bly's head. Bly actually moved his head so it was more in the path of the shot, and then let it bounce harmlessly off his helmet. He made a great show of tilting his head, typical clone style. He then peered down at the unlit flare.

"Well, that wasn't very bright," Bly declared.

Aayla scowled at him so fiercely, Bly burst out laughing. He pointed his helmeted head at her, "Throw another one!"

Aayla shook her head at him. Bly had always had a good sense of humor, but now that they were both no longer tied down by the rules of military decorum, it seemed his playful side was emerging full force. Aayla was not sure if this was a good thing or not.

Suddenly, Aayla's expression froze, and she got a far away look on her face. Bly knew that look. He immediately grew silent, and just waited patiently. Aayla continued to stare blankly off into space, as if she were someplace else. After a few seconds more, she blinked, and her eyes focused again.

She looked at Bly with the same expression she wore when sending troops out on missions where there was a good chance a bunch of them might not be coming back: "I know where we need to go. There is great risk, but we must go."


	10. Chapter 10 Planetside

"More Than Just A Clone"

Chapter Ten

"Tell me again what you sensed?" Bly asked, as they made their way through the heavily wooded area.

Aayla frowned, studying Bly as he walked ahead of her. He was moving quickly, despite having a stiff-legged limp. But, she could tell from the way he held his body that he was still in a lot of pain. She was wondering if she should have insisted that he remain back in the ship.

"I sensed a presence. Maybe more than one."

"And, what kind of presence was it exactly?"

"I think it possibly could have been a force user, but it was hard to tell. It was obvious they were trying to mask their presence. So, I can't be sure."

"So, we may, or may not, be looking for one, or not one, or more, Force users who may, or may not, be here?" Bly clarified, with a note of sarcasm in his voice.

"Yes," Aayla said, "look Bly, you asked me to use my Jedi senses. I did. I'm sorry it's not an exact science. But, it is what it is."

Bly stopped, and put a hand on Aayla's arm, "I'm sorry, Aayla. I meant no disrespect."

"I know. I'm sorry I can't be more precise. I hope we find what it is you're looking for here, Bly."

Bly took a deep breath, and let it out again. He looked around at the seemingly endless forest around them, "There's not much here, is there?"

Aayla put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "Appearances can be very deceiving. Take heart. We may yet find what you're looking for here."

"Yeah," Bly said, starting to walk again, "thanks for coming with me to Mandalore. I know it probably wasn't high on your places you wanted to visit one day when you retired from the Jedi Order."

Aayla looked at him curiously, "You thought I would retire from the order one day?"

Bly shrugged, using his one good shoulder, "I have no idea what old Jedi do. But, sometimes I just figured one day you might get tired of what you were doing and decide to leave."

He looked down, suddenly uncharacteristically bashful.

"Leave, and then take up with a certain Commander than I had fallen madly in love with during the Clone Wars?" Aayla asked, sounding both pleased, and playful at the same time.

"Something like that," Bly mumbled.

"So, you fantasized about having a future with me?" Aayla clarified.

"Not a big deal," Bly murmured, now clearly embarrassed about the whole thing.

"So, you didn't just fantasize about having sex with me?" Aayla clarified.

"Why does it matter?" Bly asked, confused about the turn the conversation had taken.

Aayla stopped walking, "Take off your helmet."

Bly stopped, and fumbled with the release, with his one hand, his left hand. He grumbled under his breath with frustration. Aayla reached over to help him. Once she got his helmet off, she could see in his eyes how frustrated he was that he still couldn't do these tasks for himself. It always instantly plagued her with guilt, because she knew he'd lost use of his arm because of her.

Bly was looking at her expectantly, "Well, my helmet's off. Now what?"

Aayla pulled her thoughts away from her guilt about his arm. She grabbed Bly's face between both her hands, and gave him a long, scorching, passionate kiss.

When they stopped for air, Bly muttered: "If we don't stop now, we are going to end up making love right here in this spot in the woods."

He turned his head and began looking around. His eyes lit up as he looked at a nearby tree.

"No, Bly," Aayla said, laughing, "although I do appreciate your creativity. Another time perhaps, OK?"

"Then, what was that kiss for?" Bly asked, confused, and also, obviously a bit frustrated. He glanced over, longingly at the tree again, as if hoping Aayla would change her mind. Aayla put her hand on the back of his head and directed his attention back to her.

"That kiss was for imagining a future where we were together."

"You kissed me because I used to think about us growing old together?" Bly asked, confused, "growing old together is a turn on?"

Aayla nodded happily.

Bly shook his head in wonderment, "I have so much to learn."

Aayla laughed, gave him one last quick kiss, and then replaced his helmet on his head. She also gave his tree a quick, playful glance, telling the tree: "Another time, perhaps."

Bly looked back at her, startled, and laughed.

They continued walking on.

#

Two hours later, they were still exploring the area.

"Oh, look, more trees," Bly said, sarcastically, as they made their way up a rocky slope, and caught a glimpse of what was on the other side.

"Are you holding up OK?" Aayla asked, looking Bly over with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine" Bly said, quickly, trying to keep his tone as natural sounding as possible. Truth was, his injured leg ached fiercely and felt in danger of giving out. He wished he had a walking stick, or something similar, to take some of the weight off his leg. But, he didn't want to admit to Aayla that he was hurting, so he couldn't admit that he needed a support. His arm hurt a lot worse now that it wasn't in the sling anymore, and his chest armor was rubbing up against the still healing wound in his side. But, he wasn't about to admit any of that. If he did, he was sure Aayla would tell him he should have remained in the ship. He gritted his teeth and focused on planting one leg in front of the other. He kept reminding himself that it was his idea to come to Mandalore. Granted, they were checking out this particular area because Aayla had sensed a Jedi presence. But, Bly had no ideas about where else to set down, so it was as good a place to start as any.

"Maybe we should call it a day, and head back to the ship," Aayla said.

"We've only been out here three hours, Aayla," Bly protested, "in the Army, we usually did three hours of work **before **breakfast."

"You're exaggerating, because I for one, know that most clones are terribly grumpy if they don't get to eat first thing in the morning. I've seen it first hand," Bly opened his mouth to protest, but Aayla cut him off, "I lived alongside you for three years. I noticed all these little things. And, you're a free man now, Bly, Army rules don't apply."

Bly shook his head, "That is still such a weird idea."

Aayla nodded her head in agreement, "I think it will take both of us sometime to adjust to all these changes."

"OK, then, just a little longer before we head back then. If we don't find anything in another hour, then we'll head back, OK?"

Aayla nodded, still looking over at Bly with concern. She was still tuned in to his pain signals, and could feel that he was struggling. Why wouldn't he admit it? Why did he have to push himself like this? They continued on.


	11. Chapter 11 The Nulls

_**Revised: October 6, 2013**_

**"More Than Just A Clone"**

**Chapter 11**

"What do you see?" Mereel asked, as they peered through the densely forested areas outside of Kyrimorut. It was getting dark, and visibility was difficult. Next to him, Jaing was peering through a pair of Republic-issue macro-binoculars, part of their large supply of equipment they had stashed around.

"Well, it's getting dark. But, I definitely see armor. Looks like a... what did they just starting calling them now? _Stormtrooper._" The way Jaing said the word sounded completely alien and foreign on his tongue, like whatever might be lying underneath the armor might not be a brother, after all, but something totally different.

Mereel sighed. Everything felt so odd and out of place since Order 66. He felt like the family was barely holding it together. He stared out into the dark, trying to scan out with his HUD and get a visual on this latest threat. "A stormtrooper." He hissed under his breath. "How'd they find us?"

"Does it matter? The Empire is here," Jaing continued to track the movements of their new enemy through the macro-binoculars.

"Capture him or kill him?"Mereel asked.

"Hang on. Not sure he's actually found us. He's not even looking in the direction of Kyrimorut."

"What's he doing way out here, then?"Mereel asked. He wasn't about to take any chances when it came to the safety of his family.

"Advanced recon maybe for that Garrison they are talking about putting in at Keldabe?" Jaing speculated.

"We're a long way from Keldabe," Mereel said.

Jaing put down the macro-binoculars and looked at his brother, "Alright, what do you want to do?"

Mereel didn't hesitate. "We have to kill him. He's too close to Kyrimorut for comfort."

Jaing nodded, "Agreed. If we capture him, we'd still have to kill him. He'd know too much."

His brother heaved a sigh of relief that his brother agreed so readily. "Yes, with as emotional as Kal'buir is right now, he might get upset about our executing a clone at Kyrimorut. He can be very sentimental." Mereel had figured out early on that sentimental could get you killed. So, he valued the lives of Kal'buir and his five brothers, but was very careful about extending those emotions to anyone else. He sighted the stormtrooper down in his Verpine sight, preparing to squeeze off a headshot. He missed his DC-17, but a Verp made for a great sniper rifle. "Taking him down." It would be a neat and clean killshot.

The shot dispatched silently. Just as the shot rang out, Mereel looked away. As much as he told himself this act was necessary, and he didn't care, part of him still seemed to be bothered by what he had just done.

_Fek._

He thought it wouldn't bother him to shoot somebody who used to be a 'brother.' He tried to get his mind to switch over and just think of them as 'Stormtroopers' now. But, a stubborn part of his brain was still interchanging the words "Stormtrooper" with "Clone trooper."

_Shab. Shab. Shab._

_I'm as farkin' sentimental as Kal'buir._

Mereel was angry at himself, and knew he'd need to harden his heart if he was going to make it through the Empire.

# # #


	12. Chapter 12 Friend or Foe

**"More Than Just A Clone"**

**Chapter 12**

Aayla was completely tuned in to her force senses. Somehow, she'd failed to sense the danger just behind her on Felucia, and Bly had paid the price for her failure. It felt as if some great dark evil had been obscuring the living force, blocking out vital pieces of light. But, with the Jedi "purge," Aayla instinctively felt the shift in the force. She could feel the Force so clearly now when she tapped into it. Her connection to the Force was so much deeper now than before. She couldn't explain it, but some cathartic, cataclysmic shift had happened with the so-called purge.

She kept attuned to the woods around them. She sensed the presence of two others in the woods, watching them. She didn't mention it to Bly. She just kept in tune with it, waiting, watching, observing. She wanted to see what the others would do. She didn't want the others to know she was aware of their presence. With his white armor, Bly was very visible in the dark green woods. Wearing her dark Jedi cloak, Aayla was able to blend in and hide her presence much more easily.

When the shot came at Bly's head, them, Ayala easily diverted the shot. It hit a tree a few feet to the right of Bly, splintering off an impressive chunk of the tree. Animals scurried away in fright in all directions. Several frightened birds squawked indignantly, complaining about their now desecrated home. As the shot hit near him, Bly sucked in a startled breath, and stumbled back. He began falling backwards, but still managed to whip out his blaster, left-handed. Aayla was impressed with his quick response, considering it was not the hand he normally shot with. Aayla caught him under the armpits as he fell backwards. She quickly dragged him backwards several steps, and out of sight of his would-be-assassin. Ayala set him back on his feet behind a large tree, with a very thick trunk.

"Who?" Bly whispered, scanning the area with his HUD, "wait, there-", he pointed, "I'm picking up two heat signatures."

Aayla closed her eyes a brief moment, "I can't tell if they are Republic or-, no, if they're-", Aayla struggled for the right vocabulary that would accurately describe the new order of the universe.

"Friendlies?" Bly supplied simply.

Aayla gave a small smile, "Yes, that term works. There's a huge jumble of emotions coming out of both of them, some of it at odds with each other. It's not giving me any clues as to who they are."

"Well, then, let's put some more distance between us and the crazy people while we figure out who they are. I'd prefer to do our figuring out of firing range."

Aayla nodded her head in a gesture that said: 'lead the way.'

Bly checked their position on his HUD, looked one last time at the position of the shooters, and then led the way even deeper into the woods.


	13. Chapter 13 Hunted

**"More Than Just A Clone"**

**Chapter 13**

"Staing!"

Mereel looked over at questioningly at his brother, who had a look of shocked disbelief on face. Mereel waited patiently for him to explain.

Jaing looked embarrassed, "I missed."

"You missed? How is that possible?" Mereel turned back around, but the Stormie had disappeared from view. He reached out a hand and grabbed Jaing's rifle. He peered through the sights, looking for their target. Then, he quickly checked the weapon over for obvious signs of malfunction. "When we get back to the house, we are tearing this thing apart."

Jaing nodded, absent-mindedly, obviously still having difficulties accepting he'd missed his target.

"Come on, let's track him," Mereel grabbed Jaing by the back of his Mando armor, pulling him up. "Let's track this slippery Stormie."

"Then, when we find him, we're capping him. Finish it right here. No complications. It's easier on Kal'buir, that way. Agreed?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Mereel said, still feeling uneasy about that part. And, feeling uneasy about the fact that he felt uneasy.

Moving very cautiously, they made their way over to the spot their target had been standing.

"Look at this, two sets of footprints," Mereel observed.

"Yeah, OK. So, there are two Stormies, then. No shortage since they started mass-producing them on Corrie. We both get some target practice today, then."

"No, Jaing, look. It's not an armored bootprint. Tread is too light. Someone wearing lighter, softer boots. Like those silly ones Jusik used to wear back when he still had the pony tail and all that. Soft, buttery boots."

Jaing snorted, "Ridiculous footwear."

"How come we didn't see the second one?" Mereel murmured, thinking out loud.

"Whoever is with Stormie, is very good at making themselves invisible," Jaing observed.

"Yeah, and helping Stormie dodge a direct Verp shot to the head. How is that even possible?" Mereel said, still thinking out loud, as he put all the clues together.

Both brothers came to the same conclusion at the same time. "Jedi!"

Jaing clicked on his comlink, "Bardan! Get out here! We're going hunting!"

# # #

Author's Note: OK, again I'll provide a bit of character commentary for anyone who has not read Karen Traviss' _Republic Commandos_ series...

In the chapter you just read, Chapter 13, Mereel and Jaing are struggling with the concept that Jaing actually missed his intended target. All six of the Nulls possess some rare and unusual talents. Due to some extra genetic tampering on the part of the Kaminoans, they all have eidetic recall, (perfect memory), a higher IQ than regular clones (35% smarter), and, are physically larger (broader in chest, and shoulders.) Clever boys. Suffice it to say, failure is a rather unusual concept for them.

Bardan Jusik (later called "Bardan Skirata") - (former) Jedi, human male in his early 20s. He was a Commander, and later a General, during the Clone Wars, (although he originally opposed the idea of the creation of the Grand Army of the Republic.) Halfway through the war, he shocked the Jedi with his decision to abandon the order and join the Mandalorians. He believed the clones were being treated unfairly, as "slave labor," and refused to be a part of it any longer.


	14. Chapter 14 The Family

**"More Than Just A Clone"**

**Chapter 14**

Mereel and Jaing's call about a Stormtrooper and a Jedi traveling together didn't just bring Jusik. It brought out about half of Kyrimorut. Whether everyone was just restless from too much 'downtime' after three years of constant action, or, just needed a distraction from the sadness surrounding the death of Etain, their call brought out a lot more help than was needed, or wanted.

"What's a kriffin' Jedi doing in our woods?" Skirata hissed, crouching down in position next to Jaing and Mereel.

Jaing and Mereel relayed everything they'd seen and done so far.

"So how many Jedi are there?" asked Ruu, sliding into place next to her Dad.

Jaing and Mereel exchanged a look that clearly said: '_What's __**she **__doing here?'_

"Dunno," Jaing said, answering her question, "where's Jusik?"

"Kad had a nightmare. He said he'll be here momentarily," Ruu said.

"You should have called in as soon as you spotted him," Ordo said, subtly shouldering Ruu aside so that he could squeeze into his customary place Kal's right hand side. Ruu narrowed her eyes at him, but yielded.

Mereel rolled his eyes at Ordo's comment. Jaing opened his mouth to issue a retort, and considered adding in a comment about Ordo's new alpha male insecurities.

Kal picked up on all of it, and immediately called a halt to it. He put a restraining hand on Ordo's arm and put up a hand to Jaing and Mereel, "Stop! We're all on edge right now, but we **don't** take it out on family. Understand?"

Jaing, Mereel and Ordo all hung their heads and nodded, suddenly looking more like young boys rather than super-commandos.

Ruu cocked her head to the side, taking this all in. She was amazed at the power her father still yielded. He was everything she still remembered he was from her childhood. She'd remembered him as being larger than life. Everything her Mom had said over the years hadn't chipped away at the cherished vision she kept held. With all this power and respect he yielded over everyone at Kyrimorut, how is it that he couldn't work things out with his own wife?

"Where do you think they went?" Kal asked, going back to being all-business, as if the argument had never happened.

Jaing looked a bit sheepish, "We lost track of them."

Ordo opened his mouth to say something, but then thought better of it.

Skirata's nose wrinkled as if he smelled something foul.

"Let's send Mird after them," Vau said, coming up behind Skirata, "he could use a good hunt. "

"No need," Jusik said, appearing behind them. He gazed off into the darkening night, his gaze fixed on a spot off in the distance, "there."

Jaing and Mereel grabbed their Verps, and scurried out of the ditch they'd been hiding in.

The others quickly scurried after Jaing and Mereel, spreading out into the woods, forming a human net around their prey.

Mird was excited at the hunt, and ran ahead to Jaing and Mereel, intent on sinking his teeth into the prey first.

# # #

Author's Note: OK, here are some more character explanations for those who need them...

Ruu is Kal Skirata's daughter. They were separated for many years due to a rather messy divorce, and Kal's military career. Now that his ex-wife has passed on, he reunited with his daughter. (Well, he had to bust her out of jail first.) Some of the Nulls, (OK, mainly Ordo), don't like the competition for Papa Kal's attention.

Walon Vu was also a training sergeant at Kamino. He has a pet 'strill,' a highly intelligent, six-legged beast that is about the size of a mountain lion. It drools constantly, has an offensive smell (just to men), and can 'fly,' much in the same manner as a flying squirrel.

'Kad' is Kal's grandson, son of Darman, a regular clone that Kal also took on as an adopted son. Darman secretly married Etain, a Jedi. Etain was accidentally killed on the day of Order 66 while trying to save the life of a clone. Darman is not living on Mandalore with the others. Through a series of tragic events, he ended up getting left behind on the day (Order 66)the others fled Coruscant for Mandalore. He now serves as a (Special Forces) soldier in the Imperial Army, in the 501st Legion. Kad is about a year and a half old, but already demonstrates considerable force ability. Jusik is training him in how to hide his force powers to avoid detection.


	15. Chapter 15 Sunset Attack

**"More Than Just A Clone"**

**Chapter 15**

The sun was setting very quickly. It took both Aayla and Bly by surprise. With the thick woods all around them, it was already getting dark, shadowy, and difficult to see. She regretted now not being more insistent earlier that they head back to the ship.

Aayla could sense there were more people around them now. The emotions teeming through them were a cauldron of contradictions: anxiety, fear, excitement, determination, annoyance, insecurity, and, an undercurrent of sadness.

She still had no idea who or what they were up against.

Bly scanned the surrounding woods carefully through his HUD, "Yup, we've got company... a whole lotta' company," he peered over at Aayla, "your Jedi radar fixed?"

Aayla sighed, trying not to get annoyed at Bly's terminology again: "Fixed?"

"I respect your Jedi abilities, Aayla. I always have. It's just that on Felucia you had a whole squad of clones about to shoot you in the back and-"

"I was watching a Felucian hummingbird take flight. Yes, I know," she put a hand on Bly's good arm, "I'm sorry. I was totally tuned out, and you paid the price for my failure."

She looked so terribly guilty that Bly was sorry he'd even brought it up.

"Aayla, I-"

"No, Bly, you have a right to be angry about what happened on Felucia. I do bear full responsibility for all of your injuries," her eyes flashed over to his badly injured arm, and then her hand automatically rested determinedly on the light saber on her belt, "it won't happen again."

Bly didn't want to drag this emotionally painful conversation on any longer. So, he changed the subject. He did a scan using his visor.

"I can't tell much in this light. I know they're out there, but, I'm not getting any new clues as to who they are," Bly said, still staring intently out into the night, "you?"

Aayla closed her eyes, concentrating, "Their numbers are definitely growing, and quickly... Wait!" her voice rose up a pitch, and quivered with excitement, "there's a new presence with them! A force user!"

Bly's eyes widened, "OK, that could be either very good, or very bad."

"The presence is familiar somehow..." Ayala said, her voice taking on a slightly mystical tone, "I can tell I have run into this presence before, but I cannot tell who it is."

Bly sighed and looked at her in exasperation, "This force stuff can be very frustrating, Aayla. You can tell just enough to tell not much of anything that can actually help us."

Aayla gave him a hurt look, "I'm sorry."

"No, I didn't mean it as a personal attack. Sorry," Bly sighed with frustration at himself, leaning back against a tree for a moment, "not quite myself today."

Aayla looked at him worriedly, regretting more than ever that she even let him set foot off the ship. He looked in danger of falling over at any minute. _He was shot four times in the past week. What was I thinking?_

Bly noticed her scrutiny, and quickly went back to scanning the night.

"Oh, I don't like this at all," Bly said, "they're starting to surround us. See?" he pointed out into the night, "Come on, let's retreat to the ship before we're completely cut off.

They started heading out of the woods at a very fast clip, outpacing their pursuers. Bly breathed a sigh of relief when the ship came into sight. He headed up the ramp, and then turned around to say something to Aayla.

"Bly, watch out!" Aayla cried out, drawing out her lightsaber.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw something coming at him in the dark night. He couldn't tell exactly what it was, but they were wearing a full set of Mando armor. They dove straight into him, knocking him off his feet and onto his back on the steel ramp of the ship.

Bly hit the ramp with a painful 'oomph,' but fortunately, he was able to keep his injured arm away from the impact. He wrapped his uninjured arm and both his legs around his attacker in a vice-like grip. In a flash, Bly had flipped his opponent over and had his gauntlet at his opponents' throat. Bly was ready to strike at the vulnerable spot where the throat armor sealed up with the helmet.

Aayla was right behind him with her lightsaber, but didn't dare use it for fear of hitting Bly. The glow from her lightsaber lit up Bly's yellow ARC armor with an eerie glow.

Bly ejected his vibroblade from its sheath and held it up to his attacker's throat.

"Who are you?" Bly demanded, holding the blade right at the weak spot where the helmet seal met the neck seal. A well-placed strike from the vibroblade there would be fatal.

"Hey! You're an ARC!" his attacker said, sounding both surprised and pleased. "Nice kama! Would you be willing to trade-"

Bly blinked in surprise. Before he even had a chance to reply, a distraction from the right immediately caught his attention. He heard a blood-curdling growl. A terrifying six-legged creature leapt out of the darkness and launched itself directly at Bly.

Since Bly had one arm busily engaged pinning down his prisoner, he instinctively raised up his other arm in an attempt to shield himself. He groaned as he raised up the arm, and then realized a half-second too late what a terrible mistake he'd just made.

The creature opened up his massive jaws and clamped down on Bly's injured arm. Bly was a little fuzzy on the details of what happened next. He wasn't sure if he was the one screaming, or if the creature was the one baying and yowling and making all the racket. But, Bly felt his whole system go into shock from the over-intensity of the pain signals coming off his already badly injured arm. Yes, I think all that screaming came from me. Bly clamped his mouth shut, but tears were still coming out of his eyes. _Glad I have my helmet on. OK, how the hell do I get this thing off of me?_

Bly heard the man he had pinned beneath him yell: "Break, Mird, Break!"

Through the shock, and haze of pain, Bly blearily hoped he was ordering the creature off the attack, and not commanding him to snap the bone in his arm. With so much of the muscle and skin gone, Bly felt like the arm bone was the only thing holding his hand to his shoulder.

At the same time Bly's original attacker had been ordering the creature off, Aayla had leapt forward intent on slaying the creature. She raised her lightsaber up for the killing stroke, intent only on saving Bly.

"No!"

A green lightsaber blade appeared out of the black night seemingly flying out of nowhere and intercepting Aayla's blade before she could land the killing stroke.

Out of instinct borne of years of training, Aayla began to parry and thrust, intent on killing her opponent quickly. Fear for Bly gave her moves a new intensity.

"Aayla, stop! It's me, Jusik!... Aayla, stop!... Aayla Secura, it's me, Bardan Jusik. Stop fighting me. We're not enemies!"

Aayla felt a force push against her mind, and a familiar presence identifying itself. She blinked, stepped back and away.

She stood there, sides heaving with exertion, sweat beading down her chest.

"Bardan Jusik? Bardan Jusik?" she asked, incredulously, staring at the figure in armor.

The person in front of her slowly lifted off his helmet, revealing his face. They just stared at each other for a long time. Bardan looked annoyed, and not overly pleased to see Aayla.

"Aayla," Bardan said, deactivating his light saber with a drawn-out sign of impatience, "what the hell are you doing here?"


	16. Chapter 16 Nulls

Author's Note: I messed with the timeline here, which I figured I could do since this story is under the category of A/U. In Karen Traviss' books, there is a delay of a couple of weeks, (I think three weeks), before the Kaminoan, Kina Hi, and the Jedi, 'Scout' appear on the scene. I decided I needed a few more Jedi in the story in order to put some more pressure on everyone there. (Too many Jedi clustered in one place makes them an easy target to someone who can sense force signatures, i.e. Vader.) So, Kina Hi is already at Kyrimorut, even though it's just been several days since Order 66. Hey, what can I say? She arrived early. (Don't you hate it when guests do that?)

**"More Than Just A Clone"**

**Chapter 16**

"Good, Mird! That's right, let him go! He's one of us!" said the man Bly had pinned.

The creature gave Bly one final growl and released his deadly bite. Bly remained perfectly still for a moment, unable to move, or even breathe. He tried to remain upright, but his body didn't cooperate. He felt himself falling slowly backwards. He just managed to cradle his arm to his chest before he thudded unceremoniously into the deck of the ship.

Shab! Crashing into the deck just made everything hurt more. He didn't think his arm could hurt anymore, but somehow, it still did.

Bly lay curled on one side, hoping he would just pass out soon. The pain from the bite, into his already damaged tissues, was almost more than he could bear. Bly was finding it difficult to breathe, as his system tried to cope with the shock of what had just happened. Everytime he tried to take a breath, the air seemed to hitch in his throat.

"Hey, sorry about the bite from the strill. Hope he didn't do anything too serious. I've never even seen him bite anyone before. Hey, we've probably seen each other around, but I'm not sure if we've actually met. I'm Mereel."

Bly tried to focus on what was being said to him. Mereel? Something about the name was familiar.

Mereel knelt down next to Bly, and peered more closely at his injured arm, "Hey, that thing is really bleeding. He bit you harder than I thought," he leaned closer to Bly's ear, and whispered conspiratively in his ear, "between you and me, I've never really liked the beast, myself. But, he does occasionally come in handy." Then, in a normal speaking voice, he said: "Let's get you back to the house. We've got a decent medroom back there. Fix you right up."

"Mereel," Bly croaked, feeling dizzy and ill. He tried to focus on the conversation, squinting up at the silhouetted figure in the rapidly failing daylight, "you're one of Skirata's Null's, right?"

"Yeah, that's right!" Mereel said, seeming pleased that he was recognized by this new stranger, "and, you are?"

"Clone Marshal Commander Bly of the 327th Star Corps," Kal said, suddenly appearing out of the night. He crouched down next to Mereel, "Commander Bly. It's been a long time."

"Sergeant Kal!" Bly croaked out, both surprised and pleased. Bly attempted to get up.

"Easy son," Kal pushed firmly on Bly's chest armor pushing him back down again. Bly was glad to lie back down again. Truth be told, he didn't think he could have made it back up anyway. But, just out of respect for Skirata, he was willing to give it a try. It was good to see a familiar face again.

Kal took a closer look at Bly's arm, then bellowed, "Walon! I swear I am going to shoot that beast of yours! That thing about near took his arm off!"

In a much more paternal tone, Kal turned to Bly and said, "Just take it easy, son. We've already called in our doctor. We'll get you patched up, and then we'll have a bite to eat."

Kal was studying the burn marks on Bly's armor, "Looks like you've had a hell of a time of it," Kal remarked.

Bly looked up at him, "It's been an... unusual week, sir."

"For us here, as well," Kal said, a tone of sadness creeping into his voice. He sounded lost for the moment.

"Sir?" Bly croaked out, wondering if he was OK.

Kal snapped out of it, and patted Bly reassuringly on the shoulder, "You're among friends now, Commander," he looked warily over at Aayla, then back at Bly, "you can rest easy, now."

Aayla refused to be intimidated. She pushed her way through the crowd of onlookers, Jusik following closely on her heels. It was too crowded on the ramp for her to kneel down closely by Bly, so she had to stand a few steps away. "How bad is it, Bly?"

Bly tried to shrug off his injury, feeling embarrassed at being fussed over in front of Kal, and one of his Nulls. He suspected some of the other imposing figures in Mando armor gathering around them might be more of Skirata's infamous Nulls.

"I'm...uh, OK...Uh, thanks for asking." Bly winced inwardly, knowing that was about the lamest answer ever.

"Mird can bite a limb off someone in five seconds. I'm betting you're far from OK, son," said another voice, coming up behind them.

Bly craned his neck to identify the newcomer, "Sergeant Vau!"

"How the hell you'd find us?" Vau asked, coming right to the point, standing over Bly and staring right down at him.

"Uh,... well, uh... Sergeant Vau, sir," Bly began, blinking rapidly behind his helmet. It was hard to think of anything beyond the pain he was in, but he did his best to remain coherent. "I thought, uh..., of Mandalore, sir, because uh... well, -"

"Hell, Vau, do we have to do this now?" Kal interrupted, "the man is injured, thanks to that damned rabid strill of yours."

"Mird is _**not**_ rabid!"

"**Excuse** me," Aayla said impatiently, ignoring the two arguing. She finally had enough, and bodily shoved her way between Mereel and Kal, kneeling down by Bly. Both stared at her. She ignored them. She leaned in toward Bly, "Bly, I need to take a closer look at your arm."

Bly nodded, and held up his arm with a groan that he just couldn't hold back. It was completely soaked in blood, and starting to ooze some other things as well.

Aayla began unwrapping his arm as gently as she could, but she knew it hurt him terribly. She could feel it. He didn't make a sound, but that didn't mean anything. She knew Bly well enough to know he'd switched off his helmet audio.

"I could use some light," she said, worry tinging her voice with impatience. Several helmet lamps were immediately switched on, brightly illuminating the area around Bly, "thank you."

She gasped when his arm was held up to the illumination. Everyone looked on curiously. Bly's arm was completely soaked in blood from the recent bite wound. But, the bite wound had also torn open the newly healing burnt flesh. Fluid was leaking out from the torn flesh, mingling with the blood.

Vau whistled when he saw the extent of the wound, "OK, Mird didn't do _**that.**_"

Aayla's hands started shaking. It was bad enough that his arm was healing so poorly in the first place, but then for this to happen on top of everything else? She felt the same panic she'd felt earlier in the week rising up inside her again. She grabbed a clean bandage out of Bly's belt pack, and started rewrapping his arm to stem the bleeding, but her hands were shaking so badly she wasn't making much progress.

"Here, let me finish that for you," she felt Mereel shift out of the way to make room for someone else. A pair of hands appeared next to hers, gently pulling the bandage out of hers, and taking over, "I'll do that... I'm a medic."

Aayla looked at the newcomer, overwhelmed by all the people that had just suddenly appeared out of the night. All the people around her were dressed in Mando armor, but she knew from their mannerisms, and the way some of them had reacted to Bly, that at least some of them were clones as well.

Jusik pulled Aayla back, "Let's give him some room to work. Fi is an outstanding medic. We'll get him back to the house and the doc will treat him there."

Aayla stood back, giving the one called 'Fi' more room to work. The named sounded familiar, but right now she couldn't place it. Everyone continued to stand and watch as the medic, Fi, quickly and efficiently worked to stem the bleeding. Even though Aayla was accustomed to being around armored clones, she still felt uncomfortable around these unknown people in Mando armor. At least with clones, she knew what was behind the helmet. She had no idea who was behind the helmet with all these armored warriors surrounding her. She had to admit it was intimidating. She could gather some information from their force signatures, but not enough to tell exactly who they were. Bly was right in that respect, sometimes the Force could tell you just enough to not actually tell you much of anything at all.

"Where's Gilamar?" Skirata demanded.

"He sends his apologies, but Arla's having a terrible night. He didn't want to leave her unattended,," Fi explained, not looking up from where he was working, "he said he'll treat him when we get back to the house. Uthan and Kina Hi have both offered to help, if needed."

"No shortage of doctors at Kyrimorut at the moment, that's for sure," Vau said.

"Nice kama," Fi said, looking admiringly at Bly's uniform, "so, another Alpha plank, eh? Do you know Sull? You must, right? You guys would've trained together?"

Bly didn't say anything.

"Bly?" Aayla prompted, trying to tap down her growing panic.

There was still no response.

Aayla's panic levels rose even higher. She wanted to **do** something, and not just stand back and watch. But, the whole balance of power had shifted, and it wasn't just her and Fi anymore.

She got a strong sense from this group that they saw Bly as "one of their own," and judging from the looks and feelings directed her way, she was definitely "not one of their own."

Fi expertly tied off the bandage, and then reached up to take Bly's pulse. He furrowed his brow, and then undid the seals on Bly's helmet. Everyone was silent, as Fi pulled the helmet off Bly's head. Bly's face was pale, and his eyes were closed. Fi took his pulse again. The entire group was completely silent, even the strill.

Fi looked up at the group gathered around him, "Yup, totally down for the count. Well, I suppose this saves us from having to come up with all that pleasant small talk on the way home." He looked up at the Nulls. "OK, which one of you bruisers gets to carry the Alpha plank?"

Aayla's eyes met Fi's. Fi stood up, cleaning the extra blood off his hands with an extra piece of bandage. He gave Aayla a reassuring smile, the first person in the group to show Aayla any warmth or civility, "He's OK. He just passed out. His pulse is strong and steady." He turned back around, facing the others again, "I was serious. I'm not carrying him. You guys are always bragging about how much bigger you are. **You** carry him."

Aayla couldn't tell who was who in the confusing crowd of people, but she heard one of them mutter: "If I'm carrying him, I get dibs on the kama."

# # #

Aayla walked back to the house, following Jusik. His helmet was still off, so she stared at his dark blonde hair. It was much shorter than she remembered it. He had a military style haircut, making him look much more like a soldier, and much less like the Jedi she once knew.

They'd fallen behind the rest of the group. Aayla didn't feel like she could just rush ahead and catch up with the group carrying Bly. She got the strong impression Jusik had been assigned as her escort. Aayla felt like she had a million questions to ask Jusik, yet couldn't think of a single thing to talk about, all at the same time. So, they walked in silence. Jusik made no attempt to talk to her. Aayla felt more and more like she was not welcome here.

Aayla stared at his back as they walked - Bardan Jusik. The ex-Jedi that everyone referred to a 'heretic' because he walked away from the Jedi order. He left in the middle of the war, when he was needed most.

Yet now, suddenly, Jusik's "inexcusable act" made sense to Aayla with no further explanation required. Aayla just wished she could of figured all of this out sooner, like Jusik had. If more Jedi had taken the same stand as Jusik, would Order 66 have happened?

"It wouldn't have made a difference," Jusik said, curtly, not slowing down his step.

"Was I broadcasting my thoughts that plainly?" Aayla asked, startled at his question.

"Yes," Jusik said, curtly.

"Bardan Jusik, what have I done to anger you?" Aayla asked, getting tired of his brusque answers.

"Coming here!" Jusik said angrily, halting in mid-stride, and turning around to face Aayla, "Jedi coming here places all of us in danger!"

Aayla stared at him with wide eyes, "There are other Jedi here?"

Jusik hissed with annoyance, and turned around. He began walking again, not answering her question.

"That's what I sensed from orbit, then, wasn't it? It wasn't just you. There are other Jedi here, too?"

In a flash, Jusik spun around and pinned Aayla up against a tree, "You sensed us from orbit?"

Aayla resisted the urge to strike back, trying to remain calm. She could sense a sort of desperation in Jusik. There was something here that he was desperately trying to protect.

"Yes," she answered truthfully, "I sensed a force presence from orbit. It was there, but it came across as a force presence that was trying to be hidden. I couldn't tell what it was, so we came down to investigate."

"Why? All force users have a death sentence! What if it was a trap?" Jusik asked, eyeing Aayla warily.

"I didn't think of that," Aayla admitted, "but, we had to start our search somewhere. We started with the spot where I sensed the force presence."

"Searching for what?" Jusik demanded.

Aayla sighed, not sure how to explain, "Bly wanted to be with his brothers again," Aayla said simply.

"**You** were willing to risk death for that?" Jusik asked, searching Aayla's gaze.

"Yes," Aayla said, returning his gaze, unflinching.

"I see," Jusik said, and she could see that he did. He let her go. "Come on," he said, brusquely, "the others have probably reached the house by now."

# # #

Jusik led Aayla through the large, subterranean bastion the others had simply referred to as 'the house.' Its' proper name was 'Kyrimorut,' and from what Aayla could glimpse as she passed, it was an impressively large, well-equipped living space. Aayla received many curious looks as Jusik led her through the bastion, although no one spoke to her.

They finally emerged into Kyrimorut's medical facility- a large, brightly lit-room, with well-stocked cabinets full of supplies. Bly was already laid out on one of the tables.

Jusik brusquely introduced Aayla to Gilamar, the bastion's doctor. Dressed in armor, except for his helmet, Gilamar looked more like a seasoned warrior than a doctor. But, Aayla was quickly coming to realize that everyone around here sported that battle-ready look.

Gilamar and Fi were working together to strip Bly down from the waist up. Aayla stood back and watched, feeling awkward, and out of place. She wasn't quite sure where to sit, or stand, where she could both be close by, and out of the way.

It also felt odd to have two strangers be caring for Bly. After several days of looking after him, it felt strange for others to suddenly be taking over those responsibilities. Aayla stood back, trying not to fidget, or rock back and forth on the balls of her feet. She might be nervous and uncomfortable, but there was no sense in revealing that to everyone around here.

To steady her nerves, she looked away from Bly for the moment, and glanced around the room. All of the equipment had Republic logos stamped on them. How did a private residence end up with military-grade medical equipment?

"The Nulls are very creative when it comes to procurement," Jusik said with a shrug, noticing what had caught her attention.

"Might as well," Aayla said grimly, thinking of how there wasn't even a Republic anymore. "better than letting Palpatine have it."

"Oh, the majority of this stuff was taken wayyy before Palpatine's recent promotion," Mereel said, cheerfully, but there was still an edge to his voice. Aayla could detect a coiled lethalness in the man, behind his charming exterior.

She watched while Gilamar and Fi worked together unwrapping and examining Bly's arm. Bly remained unconscious for all of it.

Fi left the room after a few minutes, while Gilamar began carefully cleaning Bly's badly injured arm with antiseptic. Fi returned with two more people, a human in a lab coat, and a Kaminoan. Aayla took a step back in surprise when the Kaminoan entered the room.

"You're a force user!" Aayla gasped in surprise.

"As are you," the Kaminoan said in a pleasant voice that spoke of ancient wisdom. She walked over to Aayla, pausing for a moment to bow gracefully in front of her, "I'm Kina Ha, and you, I understand, are Aayla Secura. We will talk at another time. I am here to assist the doctor."

Kina Ha swept past Aayla and continued into the room. The human nodded briefly, introducing herself as "Dr. Uthan." Aayla knew she'd heard of that name before. Dr. Uthan had been involved in some missions involving Jedi and clones in the past. At the moment, Aayla was too preoccupied with Bly's condition to remember the details of who Uthan was, and what she could possibly be doing here.

The four of them, Gilamar, Fi, Kina Ha, and Uthan had now clustered around Bly, blocking Aayla's view. She shifted positions, finding a spot where she could at least see something. Gilamar looked over at her, raising an eyebrow, as if making sure she wasn't up to something she shouldn't be doing. Aayla just met his gaze unblinkingly and unwaveringly. She wasn't leaving here, until she knew Bly was going to be OK. Fi had removed his helmet, as well. As Aayla suspected, he was a clone, but not likely one of Skirata's Nulls. He was the same size as a regular clone, and actually a bit thinner than most. His movements were just a little bit slower, and more awkward, than Aayla was accustomed to seeing with clones.

She watched as the four of them all studied Bly's arm, consulting back and forth, poking, prodding, and then studying datapads together. They took some tissue samples, and analyzed them, then discussed the results. They took a second set of tests. They talked for quite a while. Then, Dr. Uthan and Kina Hi left the room.

Gilamar and Fi worked together, applying a thick layer of bacta to Bly's arm, then bandaging it, then a layer of soft padding, and then a stiff protective bandage on top of that.

Once they finished, they thoroughly checked Bly over, examining his other wounds. Finally, they were done. Fi left the room, giving Aayla a brief, encouraging smile on the way out.

Then, Gilamar signaled to Aayla to follow him out of the room. "We need to talk," he said, gravely.


	17. Chapter 17 Tea with a Mando

Hello All- My apologies. When I originally posted Chapter 16, I ended up posting the entire story, including the working drafts of the future drafts, rather than just the one chapter. (Hey, you got a sneak peak at the upcoming chapters.) Sorry for any confusion. I corrected it now. Here's Chapter 17.

**"More Than Just A Clone"**

**Chapter 17**

Gilamar and Aayla walked together in silence, until they reached a room that Aayla assumed was the kitchen.

Aayla couldn't hold her silence any longer.

"What's his condition?" Aayla asked anxiously.

Gilamar began preparing tea. Aayla tried to balance out the two extremes in her head. This tough looking warrior in the Mandalorian armor, and the fact that he was preparing her a cup of tea. The doctor raised an eyebrow, but didn't reply right away. He continued setting out the tea, including a container of baked goods. Aayla hadn't realized how hungry she was until she got a whiff of the baked goods. She wondered if it would be rude if she ate one before Gilamar had finished boiling the tea. Then, she realized how odd it was that she was worried about the etiquette and propriety of tea time on Mandalor, of all places. It reminded her again of how much her supposedly fixed world had been turned upside down in the past week.

Gilamar graciously handed her a mug of tea, and then held up the baked goods. Aayla accepted the mug with a grateful nod, and then chose one of the biggest bakery items from the basket. She wondered who had prepared them. They all looked deliciously tempting.

"Well," Gilamar said, taking a slow careful sip of his tea, finally answering Aayla's question, "Commander Bly has a strong constitution. It's amazing that he's up and about, traipsing around the woods, after being shot so many times." Gilamar shook his head, smiling as if he just got a personal joke, "Yeah, well, that is a stunt that Jango would pull, eh? You can definitely tell that this one is one of the pure Jangos. No doubt about it with this one. Wonder what Jango would have thought of this fellow of yours- jumping in front of a firing squad." The doctor seemed lost in lost, contemplating Jango Fett.

"Doctor?" Aayla prompted, when Gilamar didn't continue, "you were going to give me an update on Bly's condition?"

"Ah, yes, sorry," Gilamar said, shaking his head slightly, "didn't mean to drift off-topic, like that. I haven't been getting very much sleep lately. Arla Fe-, never mind. As I'm sure you know, most of his blast wounds are healing very well. He just needs some rest. But that arm wound of his-" Gilamar stopped for emphasis, "it's not going to heal up on it's own."

Aayla's eyes filled with tears, and she had to stare down into her mug while she got a hold of herself. She could feel that the doctor was staring at her. She got a hold of herself, taking a deep breath. She blinked her tears away, then steadily met the doctor's gaze again, "Is there anything you can do to save his arm?" she asked, hoping her voice came out steadier than she felt.

Gilimar looked at Aayla with surprise, "I'm not proposing we cut it off! Not yet anyway."

"What then? How will you save his arm?" Aayla asked, with trepidation, still fearing such a thing was not possible.

Gilamar reached across and put a comforting hand on Aayla's arm. Aayla was surprised by the gesture. She had all but accepted the idea that she was going to be shunned in this place.

"As long as there's a chance, let's at least try to get him back to the way he was. It's a very hard thing for a man to lose a limb. Technologically, it's a no-brainer. We have the technology. But, from a psychological standpoint? It does strange things to a man. I've seen it happen many a time." Gilamar's eyes looked into Aayla's and she knew right then that the doctor understood what Bly was going through right now with the loss of use of his arm.

"What do we need to do? I'll do anything to make him well again," Aayla said, her force senses guiding her to trust this man completely, even though she'd just met him.

Gilamar held up the container of baked goods, offering Aayla another one. Aayla looked down. She hadn't realized she'd already polished off the first one. She smiled sheepishly, and looked down at the container of pastries. Her stomach growled. OK, maybe just one more. Gilamar smiled back at her, and took one for himself, as well.

"Now, one thing we are totally lacking here is a full-sized bacta tank," Gilamar said, taking a large bite of his pastry, "I say it's about time we liberate one from someplace."

"Do you steal all of your medical equipment?" Aayla asked, her voice conveying more amusement than censure.

Gilamar just shrugged and smiled. He lifted his comlink to his mouth. "Jaing, Mereel, Ordo, do you have a moment to chat in the kitchen? I have a special job for you. A procurement mission."

Gilamar held out the container of pastries as the Nulls filed in. The three made short work out of emptying the container, with Jaing and Mereel fighting over the last pastry. Ordo rolled his eyes, grabbed the pastry, ripped it in two, and handed each of them half.

"How's the ARC?" Mereel asked, leaning up against the counter by Aayla, "tell him that we're going outfit him with a proper Mando rig. Then, ask him if I can get his-"

"No way!" Jaing interrupted, "I carried him, so that means I have dibs on-"

Ordo reached over and thumped both of them on their chest plates hard enough to push them back a foot or two. "Cut it out! Or, I'm burning the kama!" He turned to Gilamar, ignoring Aayla entirely, "you wanted to see us, Gil?"

"Well boys, feel like going on a bit of a supply run?" Gilamar asked, "One that might involve liberating a few items from Palpie's new Empire? We need to steal ourselves a bacta tank."

# # #

Author's Notes:

In Chapter 17, Gilamar, a Karen Traviss character, briefly references "Arla Fe-" and then stops himself. He is referring to Arla Fett, another Karen Traviss character. Arla Fett is none other than sister to the deceased Jango Fett. Kal Skirata, and the renegade Jedi, Jusik Bardan, liberate Arla from a Republic prisoner right around the time of Order 66. They were not looking for her, they were busting Kal's estranged daughter, Ruu out of jail. Just by happenstance, they heard someone yelling in Mando, and went to investigate. They found a deranged woman, pumped full of drugs, jailed for murder- none other than Arla Fett. She is one of the many colorful residents living at Kyrimorut.

Jaing and Mereel are infamous for collecting 'souvenirs' and adding them to their attire. Jaing wears a pair of grey Kaminoan gloves taken from the cold-hearted Kaminoan scientist, Ko Sai. (Ko Sai was captured by the Nulls, and lived for a time at Kyrimorut.) The other Kaminoan currently in residence at Kyrimorut, Kina Ha, is a sharp contrast. She's 1000 years old, and actually nice. Even more shocking, she's also a Force user. (Yes, these are all still characters from Karen Traviss' series of books.)


	18. Chapter 18 Supply Run

More Than Just A Clone

Chapter 18

It was getting late, so they decided to put off any more discussions of their "supply run" until the morning.

"Mornings start early around this place," Gilamar warned.

Aayla nodded. It wasn't like you could sleep until noon at the Jedi Temple, so she didn't see how early mornings on Mandalor could be an issue.

"Come on," Jusik said, suddenly appearing in the doorway of the kitchen. He brusquely motioned to Aayla. His demeanor hadn't softened at all. He still looked just as unhappy that Aayla had suddenly appeared.

Jusik once again led Aayla through the maze-like corridors, until they arrived in a wing that seemed to contain sleeping quarters. Many of them were unoccupied, with the doors opened, and the rooms darkened. Aayla almost got the impression of an inn that was waiting for travelers for show up.

Jusik led Aayla into a room that was spacious, clean, and smelled of fresh paint. All of the furniture looked new, as if the room had never been occupied before. The refresher with sparkling fixtures that looked as if they'd just been installed. The refresher was stocked with small bottles of toiletries, and fluffy, white towels. The accommodations were much nicer than what Aayla was accustomed to. She was sure that others, like the wealthy elite in Coruscant, would consider the accommodations beneath them - much too plain. But, to Aayla, the place had a warm, inviting, _safe_ feel to it. She liked the place instantly. She just stood in the middle of the room, staring, taking it all in.

Jusik noticed her look, and said: "Kal is a successful, er, entrepreneur, with a bit of help from the Nulls."

Aayla could tell from the way Jusik said 'entrepreneur' that there was a great deal more he wasn't telling. Aayla didn't care.

"Thank you, Bardan," Aayla said, calling Jusik by his first name, for the first time since she'd arrived. She reached over and put a hand on his arm, "it is good to see you again."

Jusik pulled back away from her, "Well, don't get too comfortable," Jusik said gruffly. "Nobody said you were staying."

He turned around and abruptly left the room, closing the door on his way out. Aayla half expected to hear the lock slide shut as he left, locking her into the room. No, she didn't hear it.

She tested the lock. The door opened right up. So, she wasn't a prisoner here. She sighed, completely confused by the odd and contradictory ways she had been treated since she had arrived. Then, she reminded herself it didn't matter. This was about Bly, and she owed everything to him. Somehow she would make it work, even if she did have to deal with everyone disliking her, even the other (ex)Jedi. What did it matter if she had no friends left, anywhere, in the galaxy... Aayla shut down that line of thinking before she could dwell on it too long.

Aayla was still too wound up to sleep, so she went into the refresher to take a shower. She noticed that somebody had thoughtfully laid out a change of clothes, plus a nightgown. The clothing looked used, although it was clean and in good condition. Aayla wondered who the clothes belonged to? Were there other women here, other than the ancient Kaminoan?

Aayla was grateful for the clean clothes. Yes, she was still proud to be a Jedi, but it did seem wise to slip into something less conspicuous than clothing that screamed: "I'm a Jedi. Please shoot me now." (Particularly on Mandalor, a planet that delighted in shooting Jedi long before the rest of the galaxy started shooting them, too.)

As Aayla showered, she thought back to everything that had happened over the course of the day. Then, her mind wandered back to everything that had happened over the past week. She forcefully blocked out the terrible parts, like the slaying of the younglings, and tried to focus on the positive memories, all of which had to do with her time with Bly. She smiled as she remembered asking Bly if he needed help in the shower, and his reply of: "No actual showering would get done." Thinking of Bly being in the shower with her now made her blush, even though she was the only one in the room. There were a lot of things she still wanted to explore with Bly, since they were newlyweds. They just hadn't had the time, or the opportunity yet. It saddened her that Bly was way over in the other side of the bastion, unconscious in the medical facility, rather than here in the shower with her. She dried off, slipped into the borrowed nightgown, brushed her teeth, and crawled into bed.

Even though the bed was very comfortable, it took Aayla a long time to fall asleep. She'd gotten used to sleeping with Bly at her side. He always curved his body around hers, making her feel safe and secure. She got hot after a while, so she slipped her borrowed nightgown off, and just lay there, staring up at the ceiling. She thought about the future - her future, and Bly's future.

Late into the night, she fell into a fitful sleep. Then, she started having visions. She kept seeing Bly surrounded by his brothers, wearing Mando armor, just like them. They treated him like a returning hero, and he was smiling and happy. None of the visions about Bly's future included her. Again and again, she had these same visions, and again and again, she was not included in Bly's future. Aayla woke up abruptly, and began to cry, softly, so she didn't wake anyone up. She wasn't sure if there was anyone in the sleeping quarters around her, but she didn't want to take any chances. So, she stuffed her face into her pillow to muffle the sound of her crying. She was ashamed that she was crying again, but somehow tears seemed to come much too easily to her these days. Toward morning, exhausted and troubled, Aayla finally fell asleep.

# # #

Author's Note: Bardan Jusik refers to Kal Skirata being an 'entrepreneur.' Kal is, in fact, an extremely wealthy man. One of the Nulls, Jaing, (and therefore also one of Kal's adopted sons), designed and uploaded a banking virus. The virus siphoned off small amounts of Republic credits from trillions of accounts. Any who noticed the small amount would write it off as a banking fee. In total, the virus nets a minumum of 15 billion credits a year.

When Aayla notices that the rooms in Kyrimorut look like 'an inn awaiting visitors,' she hits it pretty close to the mark. Kal Skirata had the bastion built for clones wishing a safe haven after fleeing the GAR, (and later, the Empire.)


	19. Chapter 19 Jusik

**"More Than Just A Clone"**

**Chapter 19**

Morning came much too quickly. Aayla didn't remember falling asleep, but she felt like she'd only slept a few minutes when she was woken up by someone knocking on her door.

The knocking was loud, continuous and insistent. She wished they would just go away.

"Secura!" someone hissed loudly from the other side of the door.

Oh, it was Jusik.

Aayla managed to mutter something that sounded like "Mmmphhh-wwwhhaaa?"

"Breakfast in ten minutes!" Jusik hissed in annoyance, then Aayla heard the sound of his armored boots clacking away down the wooden floor of the bastion hallway.

_He never used to wear armored boots_, Aayla thought randomly, as she lay there, exhausted and bleary-eyed. She wondered why everyone in the household found it necessary to wear armor, even when they were indoors.

She glanced over at the window above the bed. It was still fully dark, and the moon was still up. _What time do these maniacs eat breakfast, anyway?_ She didn't bother looking at her chrono. It would have been a wasted effort, since she'd hadn't yet reset it for local time.

She rolled over, and clambered out of bed, shivering. She'd ended up sleeping naked, and the room had grown very cold overnight. Teeth chattering, she made her way to the refresher. Thankfully, the water in the refresher was blissfully hot. She washed the chill out of her body, and also used some of the scented soaps and lotions provided in the refresher.

The shower helped chase away some of her haunting visions from the night before. Once the visions of Bly's brotherly life without her had ended, she'd been hit with an even more disturbing set of visions. She kept seeing blaster fire, and the red sands of Felucia, except she was the one lying dead in the sands, and Bly was the one who had killed her. She didn't understand why she was suddenly being overwhelmed with all of these visions. What did they mean? And, why were they all happening now, once they had landed on Mandalor?

Aayla quickly toweled off, and dressed in the clothes that had been left for her. She was surprised by how well they fit. Being Twi'ilek, she was much, well, curvier than a regular human female. This outfit was more conservative than the form-fitting leather attire she normal fought in. The blouse was white, and billowy, and made of a silky material that felt pleasing against her skin. It was long, like a tunic, and cut in a V-shape at the neck, to accentuate the bustline. The sleeves tapered nicely at the end, to keep the material from getting in the way, and even had a bit of lace at the ends, to add a hint of added femininity to the blouse. The leggings were khaki-colored, and made of a soft suede material. When Aayla put them on, they fit her long legs and shapely hips perfectly. Knowing her ten minutes were up, Aayla quickly jammed her feet into her boots. Her supple, dark brown Jedi boots worked just fine with her new outfit. It felt nice to be wearing something familiar along with her "new look."

Aayla quickly headed out the door. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror on the way out. Odd. The blouse and pants looked like they had been tailor-cut for a Twi'lek figure.

Aayla wondered where "breakfast" was, and if she'd be able to navigate her way successfully through the large bastion.

Problem solved. As she hurried out the door, she almost ploughed right into Jusik. He was standing directly across from her doorway, leaning casually up against the opposite wall.

_He takes his appointed keeper duties seriously._

Jusik took in her outfit change and gave the barest nod of approval. Then, he cocked his head: "This way. Hurry up. Everyone is waiting."

Jusik walked very quickly through the bastion. Aayla followed silently, trying to memorize the route, so she could find her way back to her room on her own. The hallways were quiet, and dimly lit by lighting fixtures spaced apart at intervals. Most of the rooms they passed were either dark, or had the doorways were closed, so Aayla couldn't get much of a feel for what the rooms were used for.

It came as something of a shock then, when they entered the dining room. Aayla hadn't noticed the massive dining room the night before. They rounded a corner and emerged into a brightly lit room filled with people. It was a massive room, dominated by a massive wooden table. Giant windows stretched from floor to ceiling. The sun was just beginning to come up, allowing streaks of greyish-orange light to filter in to the room. Outside the windows, Aayla could see swirls of greyish mist lit up by the rays of orange light. It was breathtaking.

Jusik hadn't exaggerated. Everyone was already in the room. Except for the few people Aayla had met the night before, Aayla had no idea who these people were. She hadn't realized this many people living at Kyrimorut. When she and Jusik arrived in the doorway, all conversation immediately stopped, and every head immediately turned her way. Aayla suddenly felt self-conscious, and embarrassed, on a level she hadn't felt since her early days at the academy.

"This is Aayla," Jusik mumbled, making a vague hand gesture toward Aayla to the room in general. He immediately then tugged on Aayla's arm, pulling her into the room with him, and pointed to a spot on a bench, "sit there." Jusik then walked away, and sat down amongst his brothers in what Aayla assumed was his normal breakfast spot. Aayla obediently sat in the spot Jusik had indicated, still feeling like the whole room was tracking her every move.

Trays of food immediately started being passed around. The food was passed around at an impressive clip, with an efficiency that reminded Aayla most everyone at this table had some kind of military training or background. Eggs, some kind of fried meat, something that looked like a vegetable, an assortment of sliced up fruit, dark bread that was generously slathered with butter, large jars of jelly, and a basket of pastries. Next to Aayla's plate, there was a generously sized cup of caf, and a brightly colored liquid that Aayla assumed was juice. It was the largest breakfast Aayla had ever seen.

She was seated between what she guessed were two more of Skirata's sons - the ones known as "the Nulls." Aayla politely accepted the trays of food, took small spoonfuls of each items, before passing them on again. She noticed Skirata's sons all had big appetites, and heaped large portions of food on their plates.

"That's all you're going to eat?" asked the Null, seated to her right, looking at the tiny portion of eggs Aayla had scooped onto her plate.

"Well, I., er, .." Aayla stammered out.

"I'm A'den. Eat!" he dug the spoon into the tray of eggs and heaped some more on Aayla's plate.

"Thank you," Aayla said, smiling politely at him, "they do look delicious. I'm Aayla."

She looked back down at her plate and noticed it now had a much larger portion of meat heaped on it as well. She looked toward the Null to the left of her. He shrugged, and then smiled at her as well.

"I'm Kom'rk," he said.

"Thanks," Aayla said, "I'm-"

"Aayla," Kom'rk said, "yeah, got that."

Aayla smiled sheepishly, and took a sip of her caf, "Yes," she said, at a loss for a better conversation starter.

"So, Aayla Secura," Kal boomed out from the other side of the table, startling Aayla, and causing her to spill some hot caf onto her hand.

"Yes?" Aayla said, ignoring the sting of the hot caf on her skin. She fumbled around for her napkin, trying not to break eye contact with Kal while she looked for it. She felt someone press her napkin into her hand. Her fingertips brushed up against male fingertips. She looked over, and Kom'rk gave her a quick grin, then saluted her with his caf cup.

Aayla quickly mouthed the word 'thanks,' and mopped up her spilled caf. She picked her caf back up and took another sip. She was beginning to understand why Bly needed his brothers in his life.

"Care to tell us exactly what happened the day of Order 66? How it is that you are not dead, and Commander Bly ended up with four holes in him?"

"Oh," Aayla let all her breath out in one deep breath, and briefly closed her eyes, composing herself. How to retell the story of her most life changing moment? All conversation at the table ceased, and everyone turned expectantly toward Aayla. Aayla put her cup of caf down and took a deep breath. She'd very briefly told Gilamar last night what happened, but she'd given him the 30-second version of the story.

She felt somebody press something into her hand. She looked down. A'den was handing her a frosted pastry with a pudding filling, "Take a bite of this first. You haven't eaten anything yet. You can't tell a good story on low blood pressure. This one is my favorite."

She felt something get pressed into her other hand, "These are much better. Trust me." Komrk was trying to hand her a twisted, glazed pastry.

Aayla smiled at both of them, and quickly took a bite of the frosted pastry, then the glazed pastry, and then washed it down with a sip of caf. She placed the rest of the pastries on her plate for later. "Thank you," she whispered to both of them.

Everyone at the table had seen the whole exchange, but somehow, her newfound friendship with the Nulls had broken the ice. When she looked out to begin her story, she noticed some softening in their expressions- as if she wasn't so much of an outsider anymore.

_Wow- the power of the pastry. Things they didn't teach us at the academy._

Aayla took another deep breath, and started retelling the story.

"Following the siege of Saleucami, Commander Bly and I were sent to Felucia to investigate a plot regarding the poisoning of Felucia's water supply. Our squadron was there, along with members of the 501st legion. We split up into various teams. Commander Bly and I were headed to Niango. I was totally unaware that Order 66 had been issued," Aayla's voice dropped and grew emotional as she described what it was like to spin around and see her own men about to shoot her in the back. The room was eerily silent. Everyone had stopped eating to listen. They were all mesmerized by her story. Aayla was uncomfortable with all the attention. Somehow, they found her perspective on Order 66 to be fascinating. So, she continued on.

Aayla tried to recount everything in as vivid detail as possible, and as accurately as possible. She spoke regretfully of having to force push her attackers into the rock face, and hoped they still lived.

"Wait, let me get this straight," Walon interrupted skeptically, from the other side of the table. He sat next to Kal, his strill seated vigilantly nearby, " your troopers tried to shoot you in the back, yet you worried if they were still alive?"

"Yes," Aayla said, with all sincerity, "they are all good men. Dedicated soldiers. They were just following orders. I deeply regretted having to injure some of them in order for Bly and I to get away. I hope one day to see the men of the 327th again."

Walon scoffed skeptically, "Oh, I'm sure you do."

"Walon, give it a rest," Kal said, annoyed, he turned to Aayla, "go on."

"When I saw that Bly still lived, I picked him up and ran with him toward the ships."

Mereel rested his chin in his hands, and gazed at Aayla dreamily, "What a woman."

"I stole a ship, and set a course for the Outer Rim. I was terrified that Bly wouldn't make it. He was so badly injured. At one point, on that first day, I thought he actually was dead because his body had completely stopped responding..."

Aayla was amazed with the way everyone was still hanging on to her every word. This was a crowd that loved a good story. They were still absolutely riveted by her story. Aayla tactfully left out the parts pertaining to the romantic relationship between her and Bly. She figured she didn't need to go into detail, such as: "And, then, the Commander and I had mind-blowing sex..." Although she suspected it wouldn't take long for everyone to figure out that she and Bly were way past the "friends" stage.

Aayla was glad no one was eating when she described what she had to do to Bly's arm. Several people at the table sucked in their breath when she described the ripping of flesh. She was afraid to meet Gilamar's eyes, afraid she'd done something terribly wrong and permanently maimed Bly. Aayla paused, taking a shaky breath.

"It was a difficult thing you did," Gilamar said kindly, "you probably saved his life."

Aayla hadn't expected kindness from this group. It was the kindness that undid her more than anything. Aayla looked up, tears welling up in her eyes. She felt terribly ashamed for revealing her feelings in front of such a large crowd, but couldn't help it. Her emotions were still so raw.

She looked directly at Gilamar, and asked in a haunted voice: "What if Bly can never use his arm again? He sacrificed so much. He can't feel his hand, or his fingers. He can't move his arm at all."

Aayla stared down at her plate, not even sure why she was sharing this, but not able to stop herself either: "I had a vision last night - where he _carried out_ Order 66. Maybe this isn't the way things were meant to be," Aayla had to stop for a moment, because her voice was getting shaky. She took a deep breath, and then revealed the rest, the thought that had been haunting her sleep, "If Bly had followed his orders, then he wouldn't have been hurt."

There was complete stunned silence around the table. Even Walon stayed silent. She could feel Jusik staring at her, but she couldn't meet his eyes.

Aayla hung her head down. She tried to stop her tears, but much to her shame, a few more slipped out anyway, and dripped onto her folded hands. She didn't say anything more.

# # #


	20. Chapter 20 Laseema

**"More Than Just A Clone"**

**Chapter 20**

Kal made an abrupt signal with his hands. The Nulls, Gil, Walon, and everyone else got up silently and left the room, most bringing their plates of food with them.

Aayla heard everyone leave the room, but didn't look up. She was self-conscious about how much she had revealed. She also felt embarassed and vulnerable for having shed tears in front of so many strangers.

Surprisingly, even Jusik left the room, leaving Aayla in peace. Aayla didn't know if she should leave the dining room and head back to her room, or just stay where she was for a few more minutes. She'd hardly eaten any of the food that had been heaped on her plate, and she felt guilty wasting it. But, eating would involve actually lifting her head up, and right now, she was too busy staring at her hands in her lap.

She also needed to find out if it was OK if she spent the day in the medbay with Bly. Did she need permission to be in the medbay? Aayla sighed. She had no idea what the rules were in this place. As she continued to stare at her hands, absent-mindly rubbing one blue thumb with her other thumb, she realized she had no idea what the rules were anywhere anymore. One week the whole universe made sense, and the next week...

A blue skinned figure sat down in the vacant chair next to hers, and shoved a plate full of warm pastries and sliced fruit into Aayla's hands.

"Eat. You won't help your man by starving yourself, OK?"

Ayala accepted the plate, and finally raised her head up, meeting the eyes of a beautiful Twi'lek female.

"I'm Laseema, wife of Atin. And, you're Aayla, Jedi girlfriend of Commander Bly, Strill bite victim currently in medbay, right?"

Aayla looked up. "You're Twi'ilek!" she said, stating the over-obvious.

Laseema laughed, giving herself a long look up and down, before looking back at at Aayla, "Hey, I am a Twi'ilek! What a surprise!"

Then, Laseema looked at Ayala, squinting at her. She made a big, overly dramatic show of looking her up and down. Then, she declared: "Hey, you're Twi'ilek, too!"

Aayla laughed, "OK, OK, I deserved that. I apologize. That was about my rudest intro ever. I'm Aayla Secura. And, yes, I arrived last night with Commander Bly," Aayla suddenly made the connection, "Are you the one who gave me these clothes?" Aayla made a sweeping hand gesture down the V-neck of her silky blouse.

Laseema nodded, "Yes. I hope they're suitable?"

Aayla nodded enthusiastically, "Oh, yes," Aayla ran a hand admiringly up the sleeve of the blouse, "To tell the truth, I've never worn something so... beautiful. My clothing was designed with fighting in mind. This is... a nice switch."

Laseema smiled warmly, "Good to see my handiwork is appreciated. The men here don't have much of an eye for fashion."

Aayla was taken back in surprise, "You made this?"

Laseema nodded enthusiastically, "Yes," she leaned in close and confessed to Aayla, "designing clothes is my passion. It's what I've always wanted to do. I sew in my spare time," she rolled her eyes, "not that I get a lot of that here. These brutes are walking stomachs."

"You do beautiful work," Aayla said, sincerely, "I hope there is something I can do to repay your kindness."

Laseema laughed, "Oh, you're going to regret that! There's always more work to be done at Kyrimorut than there are hands to do it. But, for now, you need to eat. You look tired, and you look underfed," Laseema made a gesture with her hands indicating curves, "We Twi'ilek women cannot maintain our curves unless we keep a little bit of bodyfat on our bodies, eh? And, that is why the men love us so much, for our curves. So, come on now, eat," Laseema gestured toward the plate of food again.

It had been a longtime since anyone had shown any kind of nurturing care toward Aayla. The people here on Mandalore were nothing like what Aayla had been led to believe. It was throwing Aayla off-guard.

Aayla took a big bite of one of the pastries. As the flavors hit her tastebuds, she closed her eyes with pleasure, "Oh, that's good."

Laseema smiled, "Glad you like it."

Aayla held it up: "You made these, too?"

Laseema nodded: "I seem to be on permanent kitchen detail in this place. The curse of knowing how to cook, unfortunately."

"This might be a bit premature of me, because I don't know how long we'll be here," Aayla paused, and decided to rephrase that, even though it was painful to do so, "OK, I don't know how long _I_ will be here. But, while I'm here, could I help you in the kitchen? I'd feel better if I was earning my keep. And, it sounds like you could use the help." Aayla felt shy and awkward all of a sudden, like she was trying to make a new friend.

Laseema smiled broadly at her, "Yes! I accept! Welcome to kitchen detail! None of these guys want droids around, for reasons I'm sure you understand. Doing everything by hand takes a long time with such a large crowd to feed. But, it's not such a bad thing learning your way around a kitchen, " she looked into Aayla's eyes meaningfully, "you want to please your man? Keep him from straying away! Feed him good food! Men are completely ruled by their appetites, much as they'd like to think otherwise."

Aayla laughed heartily, feeling the warm glow of camaraderie.

Laseema stood up, and reached one arm down the table to grab the pot of caf. She poured Aayla's now cold caf into an empty bowl, and refilled her cup with fresh caf. She reached across the table, searching around for an extra cup, and then poured a cup for herself.

She settled back into her chair with her cup of caf. Aayla held up her plate of food, offering some of the pastries to Laseema. Laseema took one, with a smile, and bit into it. "Mmmm... these _are_ good," she said, finishing off the rest, and licking her fingers. She grabbed a piece of fruit out of a fruitbowl in the center of the table. "So, how did it come about that your boyfriend was bit by Mird?" Laseema asked, peeling herself a long, bumpy, purplish fruit. Aayla couldn't identify what kind of fruit it was,

"Mird?" Aayla asked.

"Oh, sorry," Laseema clarified, biting into the fruit, "Mird is Walon's strill. His full name is something long and pompous, like Lord Mird something or other. Can't remember the whole thing. But, everyone just calls him Mird."

"That thing was a strill?" Aayla asked, thinking back to the strange creature that had attacked them the night before. She wracked her brains, trying to recall what she knew about strills.

"Yeah, it belongs to Walon. Well, OK, I don't think Mird would consider himself as belonging to anybody. But, Mird and Walon are inseparable, forming their own little crazy family," Laseema's voice dropped to a whisper, "Walon would never admit this to you, since you're a Jedi, but he actually feels badly about Bly getting bit."

"I'm sure that's a great comfort to Bly," Aayla said wryly. Then, she changed the topic, leaning in close to Laseema to whisper, "why does Walon dislike me so much?"

She took a sip of caf. It was very good, an excellent blend, and just strong enough. The caf immediately stimulated her appetite, reminding her of just how hungry she was. She picked up her plate, the one with all the meat and eggs heaped on it by the Nulls. She surprised herself by how much of the plate she was able to finish. She couldn't identify what kind of meat it was, but she didn't care. It was fried to crispy perfection, and even cold, it was satisfying to eat.

"Oh, that's just Walon. He's always going on about Jedi. It's a total Mando thing," Laseema's voice dropped to a whisper, "but just between you and me, he was actually very fond of Etain."

"Etain?" Aayla asked in surprise, "is she here? I haven't seen her in over a year!" The prospect of seeing another Jedi was so heartening to Aayla, particularly one as likable as Etain.

"Shhhhhhhhh!" Laseema said immediately, looking around worriedly, as if they were discussing a terrible secret.

Aayla looked around. The rest of the room had cleared out. They were alone in the room, and there was no one visible out in the hallway.

Laseema leaned in toward Ayala, and said gravely: "Etain died during Order 66."

Aayla gasped, and dropped her fork. She stopped chewing mid-bite, her appetite suddenly gone again. She put her plate slowly back down on the table, "I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

Laseema looked stricken, "I should have found a better way to say that. I'm so sorry. That was completely tactless of me. You've suffered and lost so much already."

Aayla put a hand on Laseema, "No. It's OK. There's no good way to tell news like that. You did just fine. Tell me more about Etain. Was she close to the people here?"

Laseema studied Aayla, as if trying to decide if she could be trusted. Then, she sighed, and said: "Etain was married to Darman. Do you know him? He's a Commando in-"

"-Omega Squad, yes, I do," Aayla trying to digest this information, thinking about the fact that Etain was _married_. "I worked with Omega Squad a few months ago- Darman, Corr, Atin and Niner. They did an incredible job. Is Darman here? He must be terribly upset," suddenly Aayla's face turned terribly pale, and she gripped Laseema's arm tightly, "Order 66! Darman didn't have to shoot-"

"Etain? No! Aayla, no, it was nothing like that," Laseema took the hand that Aayla had clenched on her arm, and unfurled the fingers from their tight grip. She took the hand, and simply held it reassuringly in her own. "Aayla, all of the clones who are here came here willingly. They all willingly disregarded Order 66... Etain... she was killed trying to save a clone she didn't even know."

Aayla furrowed her brow, as she puzzled through all of these shocking clone/Jedi love revelations. She tried to put it into perspective with her own experiences of Order 66. She was still having a terrible time making sense of this new order of the universe, and how 66 had changed it.

Laseema waited while Aayla worked through everything that she'd said.

"None of the clones here carried out Order 66?" Aayla clarified.

Laseema nodded, "And, they were all on Coruscant when it happened, too, right in the thick of it."

"How many clones are here?" Aayla asked, thinking of Bly's desire to be amongst his brothers.

Laseema looked up at the ceiling as if she were counting in her head, "Well, let's see, there's the Nulls, and Fi, Commander Levet and Yavax Squad-"

"Commander Levet is here?" Aayla asked, stunned.

Laseema nodded, "He just arrived, about a day before you did. But, already he and Yavax Squad are totally absorbed into a farming project they've got going. I hardly see them. They work, sleep, and then get back to work on their project. They've been eating outside so they can get back to work faster."

Aayla nodded, and smiled fondly, "Yes, that does sound like Commander Levet. I would like to go see him later," Aayla paused, shaking her head in wonder, "did you say all of Yavax Squad?"

Laseema nodded, "Yes, all of them together refused to carry out the order."

Aayla shook her head in amazement, "I had no idea... Are there more?"

Laseema shook her head, "No. That's everyone. But, we hope more will come. People keep showing up," she smiled kindly, "like you, and Commander Bly."

Aayla returned the smile, but, then her smile grew sad, "Well, I think Commander Bly is wanted here, not me."

Laseema leaned in toward Aayla and said quietly: "Kal was like that with Etain at first, too. At first, he couldn't see past the fact that she was a Jedi. Then, she totally won him over. Right now, he is absolutely devastated about her loss. He adopted her as his daughter."

Aayla gasped.

Laseema smiled at her reaction, then said kindly, "So, don't be so sure that this place is full of Jedi-haters."

"What about Jusik?" Aayla asked, still confused about his reaction to her. "He seems very angry at me, and I'm not sure why."

Laseema sighed, "That part is very... uh,... complicated."

Aayla picked up her caf again, and took another sip, hoping Laseema would elaborate. When Laseema didn't elaborate right away, Aayla prompted her by saying: "Jusik was upset that I could detect force signatures from orbit. Why was that so upsetting?"

"You could?" Laseema said, looking at her, startled, "oh, that is troubling."

_OK,_ Aayla thought, _that still doesn't tell me why._

But, then, '_why'_ walked in the room on his own, and explained everything.

"''Seema," said a sleepy little toddler, dragging a blanket in one hand, and a ragged little doll in the other. The toddler stopped right inside the door, and stared at Aayla.

Aayla stared back. "Oh," Aayla said, "... oh."

Her mind started racing, trying to figure out who the child was. A force-sensitive child? Here? No wonder Jusik had been so upset that Aayla could detect force signatures from orbit! No wonder Aayla had detected force signatures that were trying to remain hidden. No wonder Jusik didn't want any more Jedi here. They were desperately trying to hide a Jedi...

... youngling?

Aayla whipped her head around and looked at Laseema: "Is this a youngling? How? Did Jusik save a youngling from the Temple?" Aayla asked in a hoarse voice, so full of emotion that Aayla was trembling. Laseema said that 'all of them were in Coruscant at the time of Order 66.'

The child hadn't stepped any further into the room. He just stood there, staring at Aayla.

Laseema walked over to the child, and scooped him up into her arms. The child wrapped his arms around her neck, obviously very comfortable with Laseema.

"Aayla," Laseema said, bringing the child over, "I'd like you to meet Kad."

_Kad_.

Aayla frantically tried to recall if she knew of a youngling at the Temple named Kad. Aayla continued to stare at the child, and the child stared back at her with big wide eyes that were much too old and wise for a child so small. Why did those eyes look so hauntingly familiar? Who was this child? Aayla's chest was so tight she felt she would suffocate. Was it truly possible that one of the younglings had survived? Aayla was afraid to breathe - afraid that her hopes would be crushed if she did.

"Kad Skirata," Laseema clarified.

_Skirata?_

Aayla stared at Laseema, and then stared at the child again, not understanding.

"Aayla, this is Etain and Darman's son."

Aayla had to sit down. No, not a youngling. The disappointment was so crushing that Aayla couldn't breathe for a moment. Of course not. No. She had seen all of them die. She knew all of the younglings, and this was not one of the Temple younglings.

Once again, she was hit with the crushing loss of the Temple younglings. Some of the younglings were barely older than the toddler Laseema was currently cradling in her arms. Who could possibly be so evil as to willingly strike down a child so young?

Aayla closed her eyes, and with a great effort, closed off the haunting memories of the Jedi younglings. She focused again on the young child in Laseema's arms. He was still staring at her with those big brown eyes, as if he was perceiving everything that was going on around him.

As she studied the child, she could see the exotic, chiseled features of the child's clone father, Darman. And, Bly. She recognized Bly in the child's features. And for reasons she couldn't define she found that painful. She had never even thought of having a child before but suddenly she was hit with the painful reality that she and Bly would never be able to conceive a child like this together. And, with this realization, came a sense of terrible loss- a longing that she never knew she had.

The child squirmed in Laseema's arms, and she put him down. The child toddled over to Aayla and just stared up at her in wide-eyed wonderment. He was incredibly curious about her.

Aayla knelt down in front of Kad, and looked into his eyes. He had such old eyes for such a young child. Aayla reminded herself that the child had just lost his mother.

"Hello, Kad. I am Aayla. I am a Jedi, like your-" Aayla stopped herself before she said 'mother,' "like...- uh, Jusik, your, uh-"

"-Uncle," Laseema supplied.

"Yes, your Uncle."

Kad just stood there staring at Aayla. And, then, he cocked his head to the side, in the same familiar way that clones always did, and for some reason, that simple act undid Aayla emotionally again. She felt her eyes welling up with tears again. The child reached out a hand and pressed it to Aayla's cheek.

Aayla smiled at the child, and realized at that moment, that like Jusik, she would do anything to protect this child.

She sensed a presence and looked up. Jusik was standing in the doorway staring at her and Kad. He had seen the whole exchange. Without a word, he walked in and swooped up the toddler. He held the toddler tightly to his chest. Every bit of his body language radiated fierce protectiveness. Aayla could immediately sense conflicted emotions in Jusik- how much he wanted to take this child on as his own, yet knowing at the same time this was not his child.

As they were leaving, the toddler looked out over his shoulder, keeping eye contact with Aayla the whole way. Jusik stopped, sensing Kad's distraction. He looked back at Aayla and sighed: "We'll talk later," he said, and then disappeared from sight. Aayla raised up one hand to wave at the wide-eyed toddler. Kad raised up one hand at her in return. It was just the simplest of gestures, but somehow, the one gesture warmed Aayla's heart.

Aayla sighed after they disappeared from sight, "OK, I'm beginning to understand more about why my being here makes things so complicated."

Laseema looked at Aayla with a troubled expression, "Was it really so easy for you to detect us from orbit?"

Aayla looked at her, and saw the fear, "You're afraid others will come here hunting Jedi?"

Laseema nodded, "Yes, Jusik they would likely kill. But, Kad," Laseema let out a troubled breath, "we've heard the Empire is searching out young Force initiates."

Aayla stared back at her stunned, "Whh.. why?"

"I don't know," Laseema said, shaking her head, "Jusik said they could be trained to do work for the Empire."

Aayla sucked in a breath as she realized the implications of what Laseema was saying. But, she was also greatly confused. Why search out Force initiates now, when just a week ago, all of the younglings were summarily slaughtered?

"I don't mean to rush you, but are you done eating?" Laseema said, pointing to Aayla's plate. "I need to get going on the breakfast dishes. Lunch will be here before we know it."

"Yes," Aayla said, snapping out of her musing. Aayla gathered up her plate, and several others around hers, "lead the way to the kitchen."

Laseema gathered up an impressively tall stack of plates, and then gestured for Aayla to follow her, "We'll get this all cleaned up, and then see how that boyfriend of yours is doing today. Gil is probably with him now. You needn't worry. Gil is an excellent doctor. I missed most of your story because I was in the kitchen. Would you tell it to me again while we do the dishes?"

Aayla nodded, anxious to get this work done, and then get a chance to see Bly. She felt obligated to earn her keep, and not be perceived as a freeloader. At the same time, she was feeling the strain of being separated from Bly.

Laseema and Aayla pushed through a set of swinging doors separating the large dining room from the kitchen. The doors were metallic impact doors, just like the kind used in restaurants. Obviously the bastion had been designed from the start with large crowds in mind. The swinging doors could easily be opened, even when your hands were completely full.

"Laseema," Aayla said, as they headed back to the table to gather up more dirty dishes, silverware and caf cups, "Bly is not my boyfriend."

Laseema looked puzzled, "He's not? But-"

Aayla put a gentle hand on Laseema's arm and gave her a warm, teasing smile. It felt surprisingly good to be able to say these words to someone, "Laseema, Commander Bly is my husband."

# # #


	21. Chapter 21 Kamino

**"More Than Just A Clone"**

**Chapter 21**

Bly slowly woke up. He couldn't remember where he was, or how he'd gotten there. But, shab, his arm _**hurt**_. Bly gritted his teeth, and breathed in and out deeply, trying to remember every technique he'd ever been taught for dealing with severe pain. He was in so much pain that he couldn't even remember how he'd hurt his arm. Had he just been in a battle someplace? Was he still on the battlefield? Was his arm stuck under something? Shab, he had no idea where he was. If he could just get his eyes open, maybe he could make some sense of all this.

Bly tried to ignore the pain for a moment, and just focused on getting his eyes open. He got one eye to crack open a bit, but everything was blurry. Finally, he got the other eye open as well. He stared blearily around his surroundings. Standard issue grey medical equipment was everywhere, all neatly labeled as belonging to the Grand Army of the Republic.

OK, he was in a Republic field hospital somewhere. Not on a battlefield. Something about the room wasn't quite right, though, although Bly couldn't identify it. It was so hard to focus with such blinding pain. He could barely keep his eyes open. He forced himself to look, and stay focused. _Come on, Bly, Ignore the pain._ _Ignore the pain._ It looked like a Republic medical facility, but somehow it had a different _**feel**_. Was the lighting wrong? Too dark? Was the smell somehow a little different? He had spent time in many different field hospitals over the past three years. Something was definitely different about this one. But, what? And, how did he end up here? Did he need to comm General Secura for a sit-rep? General Secura... As soon as her name flashed into his brain, he was assailed with images of her- laughing, crying, naked. _OK, Bly, this is no time to be having Bly/Secura fantasies. Save those for another time. _Why was he the only one here? Why weren't there other wounded in the room with him? Where was the rest of the 327th? Where was General Secura? Something about her was jogging about the back of his memory, but as the pain kept hitting him relentlessly, he couldn't remember what it was. Everytime he thought of Secura, he was assailed with the same set of images- _Ayala laughing, crying, naked. Aayla carrying him? That was a new one! Focus, Bly, focus! Save your "my General is a hottie" fantasies for another time! _What is it that I'm missing here? Was there something of strategic significance I was to relay to the General? As Bly started wracking his fuzzy brain, trying to remember what it was he was supposed to tell the General, the door to the medical room opened.

Bly looked over, expecting to see either a droid, or preferably, a clone medical doctor. He hoped they could clear things up. After being shot by a droid, the last thing you wanted was to be poked and prodded by another droid as you went through the painful healing process. But, as the war had droned on, and the Separatists targeted clone medical facilities, there were few clone doctors left.

But, the figure who emerged through the doorway was neither the standard GAR-issue medical droid, nor the familiar face of a brother. Bly gasped in shock, and a cold chill of fear immediately ran down his spine.

He bolted upright in bed, looking for his blaster, and rifle. A surge of adrenaline allowed him to temporarily ignore the blinding fire of pain coming from his arm. Suddenly everything that hadn't added up before, snapped into place for him- he was on Kamino!

Well, he wasn't going to be put down without a fight!

Bly clambered down off the bed, clutching his injured arm to his chest. He assumed a defensive pose. He didn't see his weapondry nearby, so he began scanning the room for anything he could use as an improvised weapon. As a trained ARC trooper, he could turn just about anything into a weapon. He was prepared to engage the Kaminoan in a battle to the death. If he was going down, he was taking this Kaminoan with him.


	22. Chapter 22 Kyrimorut

**"More Than Just A Clone"**

**Chapter 22**

Aayla was discovering that Kyrimorut was full of surprises. She was surprised with the sheer number of dishes that she and Laseema had to tackle. How could just breakfast generate so many dishes? She was also pleasantly surprised with how quickly they finished cleaning up.

"Thank you for lending a hand, Aayla," Laseema said, putting her arm around Aayla's shoulders. "I'm sure you're very anxious to check on Comm-, your husband. I'll walk you to the MedBay. I'm surprised Gilamar hasn't come by to take you there himself."

Fi came rushing into the kitchen. "Gil is a little busy right now. Could I get some breakfast food, and quickly? Anything will do. We're having another Arla crisis, and Gil and Uthan think if we feed her, it might calm her down."

Laseema sprang into action, quickly stacking fruit and pastries onto a plate. Within seconds she had the plate in Fi's hands, and he was back out the door again. Aayla just raised an eyebrow, but she thought it wasn't her place to start asking questions.

"I might as well tell you. Now that you're here, you're going to find out all of Kyrimorut's little secrets anyway," Laseema leaned in close to Aayla and said, "Arla is Jango Fett's sister."

Aayla stood still for a moment, just processing that piece of information. How odd. She didn't know he had a sister. In a way, this woman was a relative to Bly. Very strange, indeed.

"So, what does she think of all these clones who look just like her brother?" Aayla asked curiously, wondering what it would be like to know there were millions of copies of your dead relative walking around.

"I have no idea," Laseema said, with a sad sigh, "Arla is quite out of head, and has been since she arrived. I've never actually spoken to her. She stays locked in her room. Sometimes she has terrible fits due to withdrawals from the medications she was on. We found her in a prison/psychiatric institution."

"Why was she in there?" Aayla asked. The story was getting stranger and stranger.

Laseema studied Aayla again, seeming once again to be measuring her up, wondering if she could be trusted. "Arla murdered several men. She is considered to be mentally unstable, and mentally insane."

"Oh," Aayla said, a bit stunned by this latest information.

"She broke out of her room once already. When Jusik tried to calm her down, and get her back in her room, she broke his nose. Almost knocked him out."

"Ah," Aayla said, not quite sure what to say at this point. She couldn't say she was thrilled to be sharing the same house as this woman.

"So, it seems that Arla is having a tough time of it again, so Gil, Fi and Dr. Uthan are in there with her. I wonder then, who is in the medbay with your Command-, husband?"

# # #

Laseema and Aayla walked across Kyrimorut. Aayla was glad to finally be headed to the medbay. This was the most time she'd been separated from Bly since well, Order 66, their life-changing moment. The more time she spent away from him, the more she felt the ache of missing him.

As they walked across the large central room, known as the Great Room, they heard a screech, followed by a crash.

"What the hell?" Skirata said, running into the room. Walon appeared right behind Skirata. They quickly ran across the room, and took off down the corridor toward the MedBay. Aayla and Laseema ran after them. As Aayla neared the room, she recognized Bly's voice, letting loose a colorful litany of multi-lingual obscenities. She heard a second, much calmer voice, trying to negotiate with him. She tried to place where she'd heard that particular, distinctive voice pitch before. It suddenly hit her. Surely she was mistaken, though. What would a Kaminoan be doing on Mandolar?

# # #


	23. Chapter 23 Plan B

**"More Than Just A Clone"**

**Chapter 23**

As Aayla ran down the darkened hallway, her stomach was twisted into knots. It was definitely Bly's voice, and his voice had taken on that slight panicked edge to it that she so rarely heard from him. Fear for Bly caused Aayla to hasten her footsteps. When she charged into the medbay, she almost ran straight into Kal and Walon. A moment after she and Laseema entered the room, Fi and Gil came running in. They all stood just inside the entrance, staring in amazement at the scene before them.

Bly was standing on one end of the room, barefoot and dressed in just a pair of medbay bottoms, 'battling' an ancient Kaminoan on the other side of the room.

The Kaminoan had wisely taken shelter behind a sturdy wooden desk, and was using the force to bat away everything Bly was throwing at her. Bly, clearly over-agitated, was doing an admirable job of dismantling the room. There were an impressive assortment of things piled around the desk. He really was quite handy with just his left hand.

"You're not putting me down!" Bly yelled. His face was covered in sweat and he had a look on his face that Aayla had not seen before. It was a look of desperation.

And, now, he had found a box of lethal looking scalpels. Aayla sucked in her breath, and put out one hand to interfere, getting ready to pull the box away with the Force. Bly studied the scalpels, feeling the heft of the handles. He took the first one in hand, and sent it sailing across the room toward he ancient Kaminoan. It flew beautifully.

Aayla closed her eyes, and extended her palm, focusing on the scalpel.

Unknown to Aayla, right next to her, Jusik was doing. He stood in his Mandalorian armor, a picture of contrasts, looking every bit the warrior, but holding his hand out in the Jedi fashion as he focused on the deadly scalpel. Across the room, Kina Ha didn't even bother raising a hand. She simply concentrated, seeing the flying object in her mind.

The confused scalpel wobbled and bobbled wildly in the air as too many Jedi tried diverting it all at once.

At one point, it veered right over the heads of Kal and Walon. They ducked and cursed expressively and vehemently in Mando about meddling Jedi. It's amazing how many curse words there are in the Mando language just for saying bad things about Jedi. Finally, the wildly flying scalpel flew up and impaled itself into the ceiling. Bly stared up at it, confused and frustrated.

Deciding upon a 'Plan B' and looking a bit like a mad warrior of ancient days, Bly grabbed all the remaining scalpels in his fist and charged across the room like he was holding a giant spear.

"Commander Bly, stand down!" Kal yelled.

Bly skidded to a halt, clearly startled. He looked over at Kal, now noticing the crowd of people at the door.

"Sergeant Kal!" Bly shouted in surprise, staring at the people at the door as if he was having great difficulties focusing. "General Jusik? Is that you, sir? You look different."

Jusik did a brief little salute back to Bly.

Aayla fervently hoped Bly would skip standard protocol and not salute Kal and Jusik. In his current state, Bly might forget he had a handful of scalpels grasped in his fist. Bly's chest was heaving with exertion, his eyes were bloodshot, and he looked like he was going to fall over at any moment. Bly's eyes met Aayla's.

"General Secura, sir!" Bly shouted out, "I think I was supposed to tell you something, sir!" Bly paused, "but, I can't remember what it is." Bly looked genuinely distressed.

Aayla looked back at Bly, also greatly distressed. _He is looking at me like the past week never happened. Like I am just his General again, and he is back in his role as dutiful soldier._

"What is going here?" Kal barked, edging his way into the room, closer to Bly.

Bly pointed to Kina Hi using his deadly handful of scalpels. "She was going to put me down, sir!"

"Put you down?" Kal questioned, as if he was taking a report, edging even closer to Bly.

"Yes, they do that you know," Bly said, fervently, "they put us down!" His arms and legs were trembling now. Aayla was afraid he would fall forward and impale himself on the deadly sharp blades he was holding. Right beside her, she could feel that Jusik was also poised and ready to act. She'd almost forgotten how good Jusik always was in a crisis.

"I know," Kal said, compassionately, almost next to Bly now.

"You do?" Bly said in confusion, clearly not expecting that answer. His full attention was on Kal now, the Kaminoan now forgotten, "how could you let them do that to us, Sergeant Kal?" Bly asked in a tortured whisper, staring at him as if seeing him in an entirely different light for the first time.

Kal whipped his arm out and grabbed Bly's hand, pinning it behind his back. Because Bly couldn't use his other arm, Bly's arms were effectively pinned.

Bly screamed in frustration. But, he wasn't down for the count yet. He still had his legs free. He brought his legs up and back preparing to take out Kal's kneecaps. Kal, who'd taught commandos that move for years, threw his body to the side, out of the way, shouting: "Gil!"

Bly was just rearing his head back, preparing to headbut Kal into unconsciousness when Gil appeared out of nowhere. He wrapped his arm tightly around Bly's neck.

"Got him!" He injected Bly in the neck, with a long metallic syringe. Bly struggled for just one moment more, looking over at Kal with accusing eyes. Then, his head whipped around as if he was searching for someone else. Aayla moved so she could get into Bly's line of sight, but he slumped in Gil's grip, unconscious.

Gil looked down at the unconscious ARC in his arms, and then back up at Kal, with an affectionate smile on his face, "Pure Jango this one, eh, Kal?"

Kal snorted, "I prefer my Nulls. There's a reason the Jango genome needs modifications. These pure Jangos are nuttier than my Nulls, anyday." He shook his head as he looked at the mess all around the medbay.

Together, they lifted Bly and put him back into his bed. Gil frowned as he studied Bly's complexion. He took off his armored glove, and laid the back of his hand against Bly's cheek, and then his forehead.

"Are you OK, Kina Hi?" Kal asked.

Kina Hi unfolded herself from across the room.

"Just fine," she said. "I was in no danger. I didn't want to injure the young clone."

"Appreciate that, Kina Hi," Kal said.

"What did he mean, 'they put us down?'" Kina Hi asked, in her melodic, ancient voice.

Kal looked around, and felt the sudden tension in the room. He wondered who knew, and who didn't. Well, the Republic was gone. Did it matter who knew?

"As I'm sure you know," Walon said, with barely disguised vehemence, "the Kaminoans routinely put down clones they saw as 'defective.' This _beloved_ practice of clone extermination was carried on through to the the Republic Army."

Aayla gasped.

"Oh yes, figures the Jedi wouldn't know," Walon said sarcastically, "they always have their heads buried up their self-righteous-"

"Walon," Kal growled.

"Yeah, well, badly injured clones were put down. And, any clones who tried to leave the army were taken out by other clones. A special team of Republican Commandos was assigned to hunt down and assassinate any clone who tried to leave the Republican Army. Bly here obviously knew about it. Poor fella' must of woken up, seen Kina Hi and been in total shock. We should have thought of that, Kal," Kal opened his mouth to say something, but Walon continued on before Kal had a chance to get a word in, "He must have figured he was about to be terminated by the Kaminoans due to his injury."

"I did not mean to cause this young clone any distress. I will leave," Kina Ha bowed majestically to Aayla, and with much grace for someone of her advanced years, "please accept my apologies. I was not part of the genetics team at Kamino, I was unaware of these unsavory practices. Very disturbing, to say the least. I will retire to my room now."

Kina Ha bowed respectfully, gracefully turned, and made her way from the room.

Aayla stared after her, not at all sure what to make of this atypical Kaminoan. She moved over to stand right beside Bly's bed. Gil was frowning as he checked Bly's vitals.

"Not part of the genetics team?" Walon stared after her, after she left, "what else do Kaminoans do?"

Kal just shook his head. "OK, keep her out of here. I'm sure she meant well, and I know she's like a million years old, and seems harmless. But, she still caused a heap of trouble. As Bly just proved, obviously, Kaminoans give all our boys some rather unpleasant flashbacks. This is my fault. I should have thought of this beforehand. I'll apologize to him when he wakes up," Kal said, looking over at Bly.

"No, Kal, the responsibility lies with me," Gil said, not looking up from where he was working on Bly, "I asked Kina Ha if she could please keep an eye on the Commander because the rest of us were all completely tied up with Arla again. She's having a terrible time coming down off the pyschiatric meds."

Gil shook his head sadly.

Aayla was amazed that no one seemed the least bit upset that Bly had totally trashed the medical bay. This seemed to be perfectly acceptable behavior around this place.

Gil turned to Aayla, "Did he have this fever when he was onboard the ship with you?"

"Fever?" Aayla questioned, feeling a growing sense of panic.

"OK, I'll take that as a no," Gil said. "He didn't have it last night either, when I first examined him. But, strill bites are very messy, nasty things. It's no wonder the good commander was a bit out of his head this morning."

Kal glared at Walon, "One more reason for me to eject that smelly beast of yours out an airlock."

"Mird was protecting Kyrimorut!" Walon defended.

"He attacked one of our boys!" Kal shouted, getting right up into Walon's face.

Jusik came and stood by Aayla, standing in the typical Jedi fashion with his hands behind his back, and feet spread slightly apart. Aayla wondered if he even realized he was standing that way. His presence by her side didn't feel antagonized. It was the first time Aayla felt Jusik was coming over to her in a 'friendly' fashion. They stood there quietly for a moment, watching the two old warriors bickering.

"Are they always like this?" Aayla asked Jusik quietly.

Jusik shrugged, "More or less. It's a big part of how they communicate."

As Kal and Walon's 'communication' got loud and louder, Gil lost his tolerance for them.

"Out!" Gil bellowed, "I'm trying to work here!"

Chagrined, Kal and Walon left the room. Laseema and Jusik followed quietly behind them. Aayla turned to leave as well.

"Not you, Jedi girlfriend, you can stay," Gil said.

Gil and Fi had completely unwrapped Bly's arm again and were examining the wound carefully. Sure enough, all the distinct teeth marks from the strill were now red, swollen and puffy. Gil swore as he examined it. He looked at Fi.

"We cleaned it with an antiseptic, treated him with an antibiotic, covered it with bacta, and still it gets infected," Gil shook his head.

"Are strill bites lethal?" Fi asked, peering closely at the bite marks.

Aayla felt her stomach sink at the thought, and looked down at Bly's pale face. No! They'd only been married a few days! This can't be happening!

"Not usually, no," Gil said, shaking his head, "I can only surmise he's reacting like this because the tissues were already so traumatized." Gil grabbed a nearby stool, and sat down on it, thinking. He looked over at Fi, "Gather up your brothers. I need to meet with the Nulls. We need that bacta tank, and we need it yesterday."

Fi's eyes lit up with excitement, "Are we going to go steal some stuff from nasty 'ol Palps?"

Gil stroked his chin thoughtfully, "Yup, that's what I'm thinking. Getting one through legitimate means is going to take too long. But, having just fought a war, the 'Empire' has thousands and thousands of bacta tanks. We are going to relieve them of just one of them."


	24. Chapter 24 Fi

_Revised: August 2, 2013_

**"More Than Just A Clone"**

**Chapter 24**

Bly woke up slowly. He quickly decided that waking up was a _bad_ idea, and did his best to pass out again. Unsuccessful at passing out, he resigned himself to the fact that he was awake.

_Uggggh. I must be hungover. This is the weirdest hangover, though... I feel odd. Yet, everything hurts, too._

He wondered what he'd been drinking, and which of his ARC buddies he could blame for getting him into this bad state. Bly carefully opened one eye, blearily trying to make sense of his surroundings. Ouch. Light. Ugggh. Bad idea. Painful.

He had a massive headache. He really must have tied one on last night.

_I hope whatever I did last night was worth it. _

_Shab. I need a painkiller._

_And, water. _

_How could drinking possibly make someone so thirsty? Isn't that a gross contradiction, somehow? _

His mouth felt so cottony and dry he was afraid to move his lips. He thought they might split open and start bleeding. He remembered experienced this same sensation during his mission to Florrum when grit and sand when forever in the chinks of his armor. He sighed carefully, easing out his breath and debated his next move. He wondered what time it was, and if he had time for a hot shower, and a whole lot of caf before he started his day. He hoped his training didn't involve something super loud. Like munitions-

_No, no, you di'kut. Not training. The fekkin' war.  
_

Bly's mind was a jumble of confusion.

Was is my head so screwed up today?

_OK, think, Bly, think._

_The war, right, the war. _

_Ugggh... the war is just so... farkin' loud._

Bly put a hand up to his aching head. He didn't think his head could handle a lot of noise today.

_Could all we please fight the war quietly today? _

Bly started rubbing at his gritty eyes, in preparation for actually opening them.

"Hey, you're awake! Good morning!"

"Aaaaaaaaahh!" Bly's whole frame startled at the unexpected greeting boomed out at him. His eyes flew open and he started toppling out of bed and he struggled with his good arm to keep his balance. He fell awkwardly into someone's arms as he fell and cried out in pain as his injured arm was crushed against his body in all the movement.

Bly let out a long string of curses as he squeezed his eyes shut, cradling his injured arm tightly to his chest.

"Shab, Bly, I'd forgotten that you had about the foulest mouth in the whole R.A.," a chipper voice said. "Sorry about your arm. Are you OK?"

Bly was settled back into the bed. He kept his arm pulled as tightly into his chest as he could, breathing out against the pain. His arm was already in a sling, but somehow it felt better when he tucked it as tightly as possible against his chest.

"Who are you?" Bly rasped out through gritted teeth.

"Don't you remember, me? We worked together during the first year of the war. Omega Squad did an Op with- "

Bly cranked his eyes and peered over at the clone standing next to him. "Fi!" he rasped out, as recognition sank in. He heaved out a sigh, still cradling his arm tightly. He'd be enjoying this conversation a lot more with painkillers and a tall durasteel canister of water.

"Yeah! That's right! You do remember me! It's good to see you again. Been a long time since that mission to Quell."

Bly's nodded, "It has." His forehead creased in puzzlement, "Look, I don't mean any offense by this... but, aren't you supposed to be dead?"

Fi shrugged, his lips twisting, "Yeah, the Army and their stupid policies. Officially, I died two years ago. I've been here every since."

Bly noticed now that Fi was thinner than when he'd seen him last, and he did look different from when Bly had seen him last.

"Then, how is it you're not dead?" Bly hoarsely asked, still feeling like he was going to choke on the sandpaper oasis of his mouth and throat.

Fi sighed, "Complicated story. I'll tell you the full version when you don't look like something the strill dragged in."

"Funny," Bly deadpanned. "You always were the funny one. However, I'd still like to know _now_." He threw his command tone into his voice.

Fi gave him an assessing look, then pulled up a chair and sat down in it next to Bly's bed sitting in it backwards. "Alright, fine. I was going to save this for when you were feeling a bit better, but the short version is I have a nasty brain injury. A permanent one and the powers that be tried to pull the plug on me. Well, they _did_ pull the plug on me. Omega Squad intervened and with some help from some friends... a _lot_ of friends... I ended up _here..._" Fi threw his arms up, gesturing at large to the bastion around them. Fi shook his head bitterly, "I can't be a commando anymore...Still, it beats dead."

Bly's face went through a range of expressions as he tried to follow the story Fi was telling him. But, then his eyes widened, as he suddenly remembered where "_here_" was. Bly was suddenly overwhelmed with a flashback of the previous night's events. Bly shot upright,"Fi! There was a Kaminoan here!"

An adrenaline rush was enough to take Bly upright, but then he was assaulted with dizziness. He started crashing back down, his whole body weight about to crash down on his injured arm. Fi still had the reflexes of a commando and caught Bly before he crashed back down.

The former Omega squad member held him, supporting his full weight against his chest, "Fek! Bly! Take it easy, will you?"

Bly groaned, as the movement tugged at his injured arm. The pain helped bring his memory back into sharp focus. All of the events of the day before assailed him all at once... walking through the woods with Ayala looking for the source of her mysterious Force 'feelings.' Being attacked by what he realized was one of Skirata's nutcases, and then being attacked a second time from some evil, predatory creature of the night. But, all of that paled in comparison to the nightmare he had about waking up back in Kamino. A tremor went through Bly as he worked through all the emotions of everything his mind just spat at him.

"You're a mess," Fi said, his words chiding, but still in a calming tone in the way that only one brother could soothe another. He eased Bly back onto the medical bed, careful not to jar his arm.

Bly squeezed his eyes shut, still putting pressure on his arm to try and ease the constant pain that never seemed to go away. Bly groaned aloud, and he uttered a few choice curses under his breath.

Fi looked down at him with concern, "Hey, you're turning a color that clones shouldn't be turning. I'm gonna' fetch the doc. He's still in the breakfast room finishing up."

Without opening his eyes, Bly snaked his good hand out with his lightning fast reflexes and grabbed Fi, "No... There's no need... I'm fine. Water. Get me some water."

"You sure? You look terrible," Fi was still poised to leave.

"I've looked a lot worse, trust me," Bly said, still clutching his arm tightly.

Bly didn't feel like being left alone at the moment. Granted he hadn't seen Fi in over two years, but he remembered being fond of all four members of Omega Squad. They'd worked together well.

Fi looked down at Bly doubtfully. "Alright," he conceded, "but, if you get any worse, I'm getting the doc." Then, he disappeared for a moment, and reappeared with a durasteel container of water. Fi lifted Bly's head and shoulders, and helped him drink. He was extra careful about Bly's injured arm. Bly downed everything Fi gave him.

"More?" Fi offered.

"Fek, yes," Bly said, his body still tensed up, and his eyes closed.

Bly drained most of the second container Fi brought over. He breathed a deep sigh of relief as the liquid settled in his system.

"Thanks," Bly said, settling down, and finally opening his eyes again. Well, at least his throat and mouth weren't so cottony anymore. Getting some liquid inside brought his headache pain down a small notch. But, the ringing inside his head was still severe enough to set all his nerves on edge.

Some of what he was feeling must have been easily readable on his face. Fi was still peering down at him with concern. "I'm a medic, Bly. You're obviously hurting. I'm going to get you a painkiller, OK?"

Bly nodded his head, "Yeah,a painkiller would be good." Fi reappeared holding up a syringe. He checked the dosage carefully, and then injected Bly in the neck. Bly closed his eyes for a moment, and hoped his central nervous system would start to calm down somewhat.

"The doc said the stuff he used to knock you out last night might have some side effects," Fi said.

Bly snorted, "Side effects? Like a killer headache?"

"He had to knock you out in a hurry so the dosage might have been a bit high."

Bly's eyes flew back open, "Back up... why did the doc knock me out in a hurry? What am I missing here?"

"Because you were attacking-" Fi stopped as he saw Bly's eyes narrowing.

"So, there _is_ actually a Kaminoan, _here_, living with you, on _Mandalore_?" Bly asked, incredulously, starting to rise up off the bed.

"Whoa! Down! Now!" Fi pushed Bly firmly back down into the bed. Bly's sense of balance was still way off, and the painkiller hadn't helped matters anyway. But, the Kaminoan thing had freaked him out the night before. He wanted answers. He tried getting up again.

"There is a Kaminoan _here_?" Bly repeated, as he struggled to rise up out of the bed, "what is a Kaminoan-"

"Back in bed!" Fi demanded, "and, I'll explain everything!"

He firmly pushed Bly back down again.

Bly gave up on trying to get up. Getting up hadn't been a good idea. Trying to get up had made Bly's head spin. He pressed firmly on his forehead with one hand with a groan.

"You alright?" Fi asked, peering down at him.

"Yeah," Bly muttered, "but, if you could get the room to stop spinning, I'd be much better."

"The room isn't the problem," Fi quipped, "it's you."

Bly managed to open just one to glare at Fi, "Ahhhhhhhh! He punched the mattress in frustration at his body's own weakness.

Fi sat back down in his chair, then said quietly, "After my brain injury, my recovery took close to two years. They told me right from the start that I would never be like I was. I'm not like my brothers. Somebody else took my place in Omega Squad."

Bly listened quietly, just taking in Fi's words.

"The hardest part, I think," Fi added, "was just lying there in bed, day after day, week after week, knowing that my brothers were still out there fighting the war and all I could do was lay there and stare at the stupid ceiling. I couldn't even speak."

The former Omega Squad member finished and the room was silent for a long moment.

Then Bly snorted and said: "Is that supposed to cheer me up?"

Fi burst out laughing. Bly looked at him with a grin on his face. Fi's laughter was infectious. Bly couldn't help himself. He joined in.

Without looking at Fi, still staring at the ceiling, Bly said curtly: "Your stupid pet monster bit me."

This set Fi into hysterics again, but Fi recovered enough to say, "Be glad that fekkin' strill's aim was off last night. He was going for your manparts."

Bly gave his brother a wry look, then started laughing again. Once he settled down, he turned his head looking around the room.

"What are you looking for?" Fi asked.

"My guns," Bly said, with all seriousness.

This response gave Fi pause, then Fi recovered enough to ask, "You planning on shooting me, brother?"

Bly snorted, "Don't give me any ideas... No, nothing like that," he continued to look around, "I'm simply going to shoot the fekkin'... thing."

Fi looked puzzled, "The thing?", and then, he understood the reference, "Mird?"

"The monster has a name?"

"You don't remember Walon's strill from Kamino?"

Bly hesitated, thinking back, "Walon didn't really come around to our side where the ARCs were training."

"I'm still amazed you haven't heard of Mird."

"I suppose our ARC training is sadly lacking then, since it didn't include 'An Introduction to Strills- Monsters, Mird, and Why We All Want to Shoot Walon's Vicious Pet Thing."

Fi laughed, "The strill smells bad, but really isn't too awful once you get used to it. The attack yesterday was all just a misunderstanding."

"Next time I plan on dropping in to your little corner of paradise, I'll comm ahead and clear it with Walon's monster first."

"It smells awful, but only to men. The women find the thing pleasant and cute for some reason. But, it drools incessantly, so watch your footing when you're around. We've all fallen in puddles of strill drool."

"Oh, this place gets better all the time," Bly said, drolly, "Kaminoans and piles of monster drool... speaking of the Kammy, you still owe me an explanation on why I woke up last night to see a Kaminoan staring me in the face."

"Yeah, Sergeant Kal, well, all of us, actually wanted to apologize about that. None of us factored in the fact you might wake up and think you were being 'reconditioned.' You think we would've remembered that considering what happened to me two years ago. But, Kina Ha is just so different."

The painkiller had taken effect, taking the edge off Bly's headache. His arm didn't throb so incessantly anymore. He felt comfortably relaxed in his bed, and had no desire to go anywhere at the moment. He was rather content to just lie in the bed and just talk to Fi, "Who's Kina Ha?"

"The person you trashed our medical bay last night trying to take out."

Bly looked a bit embarrassed, then looked around the room. Everything looked perfectly in place. Fi followed his gaze.

"Yeah, room trasher, while you slept the rest of us were on clean-up detail. Thanks for that, by the way," Fi's voice had a friendly, teasing tone to it.

Bly was going to apologize, but he picked up on Fi's tone. So, instead, he replied: "Yeah, well, thanks for sticking a Kaminoan in my face ."

Fi laughed, "It really is good to see you again, Bly. You'll fit into this place just fine," then he grew serious for a moment, "you are planning on staying, aren't you?"

Bly was so comfortably drowsy at that moment, he couldn't imagine going anywhere. Moving at all seemed to take so much _effort_. "Considering I'll be shot on sight anywhere the kriffing Empire has a presence, which is everywhere, yeah, I think I could hang out for a bit."

Fi scowled at the mentioned of the Empire, but brightened when Bly mentioned he'd be staying. "You'll like it here," Fi said, enthusiastically, "I know you haven't really had a chance to see anything yet, but this place grows on you."

Bly stretched a bit, and settled more comfortably into the bed, relieved to be feeling a little better.

"So does Huttese Herpes. Growing on you isn't necessarily a good thing," Bly intoned, making Fi laugh again. "So far I've been tackled, bitten and woken up Kaminoans. Speaking of which, you still haven't told me _why_ you keep one of those in residence., other than just to scare the _frak_ out of your visitors."

"Bly! Language!"

"What's wrong with my language?" Bly asked, looking genuinely puzzled.

"We just don't use that kind of language around here, because of-" Fi looked at Bly, "OK, you know, I'll explain about that later. Just watch the language, OK? Kal doesn't like it."

"OK, OK," Bly said, putting up his one good hand, "I get it, so I shouldn't say...", and then Bly began quickly spinning through his entire litany of multi-lingual profanity.

"Bly!" Fi cut him off, looking exasperated, but laughing at the same time.

"What?" Bly said, looking innocent, but smiling at the same time.

"If you're quite through," Fi said, crossing his arms across his chest, "I'll answer your question." Fi shook his head as he regarded Bly, thinking he might have finally met his match in wisecracking and mischief.

Bly made a motion like he was zipping is lips.

Fi breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you for zipping those foul lips," Fi said. Bly just smiled in return. "OK," Fi said, looking around, as if to see who might be listening in, "I suppose I might as well tell you now, seeing as how you plan on staying here with us. Kina Ha is here to help us with a project. A _special_ project."

Bly narrowed his eyes, "What sort of project would involve clones and Kaminoans?"

Fi waited a moment while Bly worked through the range of possibilities in his head.

"Kina Ha is over a thousand years old," Fi said, quietly.

"A thousand years-" Bly's eyes grew wide. "Aging! She is here working on clone aging!"

Fi could see all the different emotions churn through Bly at once- hope, suspicion, uncertainty... "Can it be done?" Bly finally asked, quietly, as if not daring to even hope such a future for clones could even be possible.

"We're not positive," Fi cautioned, "but, we think so, yes."

Bly huffed out a deep breath, as he churned through the concept in his mind. A normal life span? A life outside the Army... a concept that had seemed grim and terrifying at first, now it seemed rife with possibilities. Finally, he looked over at Fi, "I suppose if I want to live to be Grandpa Bly than I need to apologize for trying to kill her yesterday?"

Fi laughed, "Actually, she apologized for frightening you. But, hey, it never hurts to suck up to someone who might hold the key to our prolonged futures. I'll send her in later today if you're feeling up to visitors."

Bly nodded,"Yeah, that would be good."

"I'll hide the scalpels," Fi quipped quietly, with a smile.

# # #


	25. Chapter 25 Brothers

Author's Note: I've got new content to post, so I've divided what was previously called "Chapter 24" into smaller chunks. The chapter had grown into a behemoth 55 pages, which was more like a mini-novel, than a chapter. So, please be patient, while I get these chapters uploaded. Yes, there is new content at the end of these uploads. I got my writing mojo back. - Diana

Chapter 25

More Than Just A Clone

Bly scowled at him, but refused to be baited. "Imagine," he murmured, "we couldn't stand the Kaminoans for being so cold and heartless while were at Tipoca City. Treating us like products, rather than living beings. And, now... this. Bizarre." He shook his head.

Fi nodded in understanding, "War makes strange bedfellows... Hey! Speaking of which, you and the General-"

Bly narrowed his eyes at Fi, his voice making it clear he would tolerate no baudy references to Aayla, "Careful, Fi."

Fi put his hands up, "Hey, I was just going to ask about... uh, the nature of your... uh, 'relationship?'"

Bly looked Fi straight in the eye, "That was diplomatic of you, Fi, as I'm sure that wasn't what you originally intended to say. Aayla is with me," Bly said firmly, "and, when I say 'with me' I mean that in every sense of the word that one person can be with another person," Bly's voice took on a protective, possessive tone, "_She is with me._ Got that?"

Fi put his hands up a second time, "Hey Bly, I'm not going after your woman. I'm a happily married man."

"Good," Bly said, still keeping his tone serious, "because I am, too."

Fi's eyes widened in surprise, "You are?"

Bly grinned, "I am."

Fi stared at him for a moment, "I'm impressed."

"Thank you, brother," Bly said, still enjoying the moment, then he added, "I'd like to add that _she_ proposed to _me_."

"Whoa," Fi said, "kandosi!" [Classy!]

"I won't go into the circumstances under which that proposal happened," Bly said, trying to wipe the smile off his face, "because I am too much of a gentleman to do such a thing."

But, Fi figured out what he was implying anyway, and burst into laughter, "You're kidding?"

"Hey, I said no such thing!" Bly protested, instantly regretting that he ever brought it up.

Fi slapped him on his good shoulder, "Well done, brother! That story will surely go down in clone legend!"

"No, it won't!" Bly protested, cursing himself for having mentioned it.

"OK, OK, I'll keep it between us," Fi said, although something in his tone of voice implied that he was retelling the story first chance he got.

Bly sighed, realizing the damage was done. So, he just grinned at Fi, "We brothers can't help it if we're genetically perfect, eh?"

Fi burst out laughing again, and quipped, "Perhaps we brothers could circulate a thank you note to our resident Kaminoan!"

Bly tried to keep a straight face, but couldn't, as he added: "Yeah, but what would use as artwork on the card?"

They both doubled over in laughter, and were just starting to come up with some very colorful suggestions, when there was a soft knocking at the door.

"Hello?"

Both Fi and Bly quit their laughing, and blushed red, as if they were boys caught doing something they knew they shouldn't be doing. Both their heads snapped as one and turned toward the door of the MedBay. Laseema stood there, carrying a tray, overloaded with breakfast food. Fi immediately stood, and took the tray from her, and then graciously offered her his seat. She shook her head, and stood next to Bly's bedside instead. She extended a hand to Bly. "Hi, we haven't met. I'm Laseema, wife of Atin."

Bly's eyes widened in surprise, "Just how many guys here are married?"

Fi mouthed the words "genetically perfect" to Bly, setting both of them into another fit of laughter again. They both tried to stop laughing, but once they started, they had difficulties stopping.

Laseema stared at them, puzzled and bemused. "Yes, well, I can see the two of you are getting along just fine. I'm going to head back to the kitchen. I already have some things in the oven for lunch.

Bly reached his hand out, stopping her, "No, I'm sorry, Laseema, we're being rude. My apologies. Fi and I haven'seen each other in a long time. Years actually. I forgot my manners, and for that I apologize. Yes, I'm Alpha-17, also known as Bly. As of Order 66, I'm not a commander anymore. So, it's just Bly, now," he nodded toward the tray, "thank you for bringing food. It looks wonderful."

Fi raised his eyebrows. He hadn't realized the most foul-mouthed clone in the RA could also be charming and gracious with the ladies. This was a side of Bly he hadn't seen before. He folded his arms across his chest, and watched with amusement.

Bly smiled at Laseema, and she smiled back, caught up in his rogish charm, "I worked with your husband, and the rest of Omega Squad during the first year of the war. He's a great fighter. You married well."

Laseema smiled warmly at Bly, pleased by the compliment, "Welcome to Kyrimorut. Everyone here seems very excited about your arrival. And, Empire or no Empire, military titles seem to stick around forever on Mandalore. So, in all likelihood, you're still 'Commander Bly' to everyone here, and will retain that title for the rest of your days. Unless, of course, there's another big war, and you get promoted to something else. I'll leave you two boys to enjoy your breakfast," she turned to Fi, "Please bring me the tray back when you're done." She gave Bly one last smile, a warm genuine one that said she had accepted him into the family fold, "Nice meeting you, Commander."

He nodded, "The pleasure was mine."

She smiled warmly and left the room.

After she left, Bly whistled. "Whoa. That's Atin's wife?"

Fi nodded, with a grin.

"I like her. Nice girl. And, you're right, Fi. This place is growing on me," Bly said, still looking toward the empty door where the attractive Twi'lek had exited. He pondered what she'd said about his military title. He didn't mind keeping his title. He'd been saddened about losing that part of his identity. So, Mandalorians retained their formal military titles as part of their identity. Interesting... Yes, well that explained why everyone still called Kal 'Sargeant Kal' regardless of his military status.

Bly eyed the tray of food with appreciation. "What's for breakfast? All that late night trashing of the MedBay made me work up quite an appetite."

Fi laughed again, "Yes, well, cleaning up after you worked up my appetite… " He smiled warmly at Bly, "I can just tell that you and I are going to get into a lot of trouble together around here," Fi looked momentarily saddened, "I've needed a good partner in mischief, ever since I left Omega, and Darman."

Bly gave Fi a sympathetic look, "If it's any comfort, Fi, you two were amazingly annoying together. Hey, is Darman here? I'd love to see him."

Fi looked even more depressed, "Darman and Niner got left behind when 66 hit."

"What?" Bly asked incredulously, "not possible! You guys would never leave a brother behind!"

Fi shook his head sadly, "You know it's not that simple, Bly. It's not like our lives are holofilms with neat and tidy endings! Order 66 hit, and it was chaotic, and suddenly all our leaders were dead, or being killed… by… Niner got up in something, and was Force pushed off a pedestrian bridge on Corrie. He fell a long way and landed right on his spine."

Bly's eyes widened as he listened, but he stayed completely silent. Memories of that awful day were still so fresh and painful in his mind.

"Darman refused to leave his side. He made sure Niner got med evaced out of there. We haven't heard anything from either of them since. They're both stuck on Corrie. All communications lines have been cut off.

Fi put his head down in defeat, "We can't even get a medical update on Niner."

Bly gave Fi a somber look, "I'll help you get them out, brother. We'll bring them home."

Fi nodded, giving him a small, sad smile as if not believing such a thing could actually happen, "Yeah, that would be good."

"You can't possibly believe the Empire is going to win for good?" Bly asked, looking intently at Fi.

"I don't know, Bly," Fi said, dropping his head down again, "they've got everything now. All the ships. The shipyards. Corrie. The whole frakkin' Army. All our brothers," he looked at Bly with despair, and whispered with horror, "they killed all the Jedi."

Bly shook his head with grim determination, "Not all of them."

Fi looked at Bly's mangled arm, heavily bandaged and resting on a cushion. "Given a choice, would you make the decision again? Choose to get shot by your _brothers_ to save a _Jedi_?

"Yeah, I would," Bly said, without hesitation, "I would die for her. Does it make sense to you?"

"Yeah," Fi said, nodding his head with approval, still gazing at Bly's badly injured arm, "I know a guy like you. Loved a Jedi." His voice then trailed off with sadness. "Anyway, enough of that. You had a hard enough time with Order 66 without me dumping all my stuff on you-"

Bly gripped Fi's arm with his one good hand. He could tell Fi was depressed about Darman, "No, Fi. We're brothers. I'm serious, when it comes time to get them out, count me in. Vode an," [we're all brothers], Bly said, feeling really good to be able to say those words again.

Fi's eyes momentarily teared up, "Yeah, that would be good. It's rough knowing they're still trapped on the inside."

"If anyone could get them out, it would be us, Fi," Bly said, determined to make Fi feel better, "think about it, I'm an ARC, you're an RC," Bly gestured vaguely with his hands," there's at least one or more of those nutty Nulls lurking about-"

"There's six, actually," Fi interjected.

Bly's eyes widened, "Six Nulls? And the place is still standing? OK, six insane super commandos-"

"They're not that bad, Bly. You shouldn't believe all those stories they tell about them on Kamino."

"I saw them, when they were little, scaling the walls of Tipoca City, shooting at the Kaminoans. Not that shooting Kaminoans is a bad thing, but-"

Fi shrugged, "They didn't actually hit them. Come on, we all _wanted_ to do something like that. They were the only ones with the nerve to do it."

Bly rolled his eyes, "OK, six _non-nutty_ Nulls, who somehow all survived to adulthood. The point is, we'll get Darman and Niner out."

"Yeah, that would be good," Fi said, scrubbing at his face one last time with his hands. He quickly changed the subject. Talking about this was just too emotional for him. "OK, hey now, let's eat, OK?"

Fi took the cover off the tray, and showed it to Bly. It was overfilled with an assortment of pastries, fresh fruit, cups of caf, juice, a plate full of fried meat, and another full of scrambled eggs.

Bly took a deep appreciative whiff. "Smells great."

Fi angled Bly's bed up so he could eat more easily. He filled up a plate for him, and held it up for him while he ate. He also cut Bly's meat for him.

"Kind of bites only having the use of one arm, huh?" Fi said, sympathetically.

"Yeah, it does," Bly said, between mouthfuls, "and, I'd appreciate it if you chose another word other than bite."

Fi laughed.

Bly narrowed his eyes at him, "Funny for you, maybe. Getting bit by that thing _hurt_."

"Well, when you're feeling better, it's only fair that we let you bite it back," Fi said, cheerily, "do you want to bite one of it's six legs, or simply sic your teeth into it's fleshy rump?"

Bly stopped eating, mid-bite, and tossed the remainder of a hard bread roll right at Fi's head. It was a good shot, and plinked squarely off the center of his forehead.

"Ow, _that_ hurt," Fi complained, rubbing at the spot, "and stop messing up the Medbay. We just got it cleaned up from your last barrage of throwing things."

Bly merely shrugged at that, "Then, stop making strill jokes."

Fi bent down to pick up the hard roll. With a quick flick of his wrist, he sent it sailing back at Bly. Bly easily snatched it out of the air with his left hand. Bly was about to retaliate when there was a clearing of a throat from the doorway.

# # #


	26. Chapter 26 Gilamar

**Author's Note: Hello All. I'm dividing some of the previous content into smaller chapters, as I have several new chapters to upload. As always, if you find errors, just let me know. Thanks! – Diana**

"**More Than Just A Clone"**

**Chapter 26**

"I see you two are getting along nicely," Gil said, walking into the room, followed by Kal. Sergeant Kal looked at the bread in Bly's hand, and then gave Bly _the look_.

Bly put his head down for a moment. "Sorry, sir." He dropped the bread back down onto the tray.

Gil slapped Kal in the shoulder plate, laughing, "Pure Jango, this one. I'm telling you, Kal. He's just like him in every sense. Never stops getting himself in trouble at every opportunity."

"Just great," Kal muttered, "you know how tight me and Jango were." Kal gave Bly a very cool assessing look, as if trying to decide if he was going to be trouble.

"Ah, but this one, you can tell, he's got the right stuff to be a Mando. The pure ARCs? Couldn't ask for betters fighters," Gil intoned enthusiastically. "They are just what Mandalore needs."

Bly looked back at Kal and met his gaze steadily. He didn't know exactly what Kal's relationship had been with Jango Fett. But, there seemed to be some leftover animosity on Kal's part. Bly had respected Jango Fett, and valued the training he'd received from him while at Kamino. He'd been saddened to learn he'd been killed at Geonosis, particularly since Jango was fighting on the side of the _Separatists_. Then, again, Jango was a complicated, independent fighter. Perhaps it was these contradictory qualities that made him such a good bounty hunter. Unlike the Nulls, or the regular clones, ARCs had the 'purest' Jango Fett DNA. Other than the aging gene, their genertic material was 'pure' unaltered Jango Fett. Perhaps this was Kal's issue with him. Kal hadn't liked Jango, so he had mixed feelings to now having an ARC under his roof. Bly continued to meet Kal's gaze steadily, looking directly into his slate blue eyes. If Kal wanted to challenge him, bring it on.

Fi looked back and forth between the two of them, and just shook his head, muttering something under his breath about 'macho ARCs.' Fi got up from where he was sitting and cleared the breakfast tray away. Fi leaned back against a wall several feet away, giving the doctor some room to work.

"How are you feeling today, son?" Gil asked.

"Uh, fine, sir," Bly said, still not quite sure of the nature of his relationship in this new place, or with Gil. Since he wasn't sure how to answer the question. "Fine" seemed like a safe answer.

"OK, that's a great answer for a soldier. You passed today's manliness test. Now tell me what you're actually feeling," Gil said, sitting down in the seat Fi had vacated just a moment before.

Bly looked up into the doctor's eyes. He'd met Gilamar a couple of time while at Kamino, but didn't know him overly well. He knew Gilamar had an excellent reputation of being fair, and of being good to the clones. It was also rumored that Gilamar had helped ARC-Trooper Alpha-02 defect from the GAR. When Bly had first heard these rumors he'd had mixed feelings, wondering if these were the actions of a traitor. As the war progressed, Bly began to see these actions in a new light. He began to wonder where Alpha-02 had ended up, and what his life was like outside the GAR.

"Well, son?" Gilamar prompted?

Bly realized everyone was waiting for him to respond. He realized he'd spaced out again for a second. Kal was studying him with narrowed eyes.

_OK, Kal's Jango issues are going to get old real quick, _Bly realized. _Fine, whatever, ignore him for the moment._

Bly focused back on Gilamar and answered his question, "Well, I woke up with a miserable headache that I first thought was a hangover," Bly looked over and met Kal's eyes, "like the ones I used to get back when I was at Kamino." Kal's eyes widened at that, "Fi and Gilamar both laughed, "but, Fi was kind enough to give me a painkiller that took the edge off of that, "Bly nodded in Fi's direction. Fi nodded back.

Gil nodded, "Well, there's a toxin in strill venom. It won't kill someone as big as you. Strill prey is normal a bit smaller than a full grown human. But, it's potent enough. That would account for the 'hangover.'"

"Well, that's a new one," Bly said, "I've been poisoned by strill spit."

Gilamar laughed good-naturedly, "Yes, well, I gave you a generic anti-venom last night just to be on the safe side. But, you're still going to feel some effects. Dizziness. Headache. Disorientation. Some memory loss. Fatigue. Confusion. That sort of thing."

"Uh, yeah, all of the above," Bly said.

"Oh, and then there's the stuff the doc knocked you out with, last night," Fi chimed in, cheerily, "he gave you like the bantha dose."

"Yes," Gil added, "we did interrupt your knife throwing fest with a strong sedative. I imagine the combination of the two combined would feel like quite the hangover."

Bly nodded, "That it did. But, I do feel better now, at least knowing why I was feeling so wonky. Thanks, doc."

Gil ndded, "And, the arm?" Gil went to reach toward Bly's arm to check it. Bly quickly pulled back and away, "OK, that answers that question," Gil said, "still incredibly sensitive?"

Bly nodded. He extended his arm toward the doctor, so the doctor could check it out. "Sorry, doc. Instinct. It was already really painful before. But, that thing biting it on top of everything else? Yeah, it's..." Bly shook his head. He was at a loss for words to describe how his arm felt.

"Bly wants to shoot Mird," Fi chimed in from his spot on the wall.

Kal laughed at that comment, surprising Bly. Bly looked over at Kal, and a look of mutual understanding seemed to pass between them. They both now had a common enemy in the strill.

"Yeah, but I can't find my guns," Bly lamented, "something about an incident with a Kaminoan."

This earned a round of laughter from everyone there.

Gil smiled kindly, "Sorry to have to do this, but I need to take a look at that arm," Gil said, he reached for Bly's arm again," Gil looked back at Fi. "How much painkiller did you give him?"

Fi stepped forward and picked up the empty syringe off a nearby table. He showed it to Gil, "He's already at the maximum dose."

Gil nodded to Fi and Kal. "You might need to hold him down, so be prepared."

Gil lowered the head of the bed back down. Bly braced himself, knowing what it had felt like the last couple of times his arm had been handled. Being bitten by the strill certainly hadn't helped matters any. Fi positioned himself by Bly's upper body, and Kal positioned himself by Bly's lower body. Gil picked up Bly's arm as gently as he could, and began unwrapping the bandage.

It wasn't so bad at first, because there were so many layers of padding around his arm. But, as his arm came closer to being exposed, and the bare skin being touched, Bly could feel the nerves protesting. He gritted his teeth, and did his best to not move or jerk his arm.

"You, OK, son?" Gil asked, looking up at his face.

Bly just nodded, looking away at a distant point, focusing his mind on something else. As Gil tugged away the last of the bandage, some of it stuck to Bly's skin. Bly gasped and jerked up in reaction as the bandage was tugged free. Fi and Kal both reacted. Fi leaned in, pinning Bly's upper body. Kal leaned down with an armored forearm and held down his lower body. Bly took several deep breaths, working through the pain. He blinked rapidly, as his eyes teared up. He decided just to close his eyes for the moment.

"OK, OK, everyone relax," Gil said, tossing the bandage off in a nearby refuse bin, "it's off."

He felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He opened his eyes and looked into the kindly eyes of the doctor, "You, OK, son?"

"Uh, yeah," Bly said, huffing out a shaky breath, "I'm fine."

Gil raised his eyebrows at Bly's use of his canned 'I'm fine' response, "You know, I've started to realize that 'I'm fine' is ARC-speak for I've got a bone sticking out, I've got major blood loss, and I'm in danger of imminent renal failure, but refuse to admit anything is wrong."

Both Kal and Fi found this to be very funny. Bly just scowled.

"Hey, just think, we'll get to rewrap it again after all this is done," Fi said, cheerily.

Bly just glared up at Fi, "Yeah, thanks for that reminder."

All four of them then just spent the next couple of minutes studying Bly's battered arm.

"Well," Gil finally declared, "it looks better than it did when they first carried you in. It did some healing overnight."

"It was all that exercise. We should bring Kina Ha in for a round two," Fi quipped.

Bly looked up at Fi, "By the way, did I win?"

Fi shrugged, "Hard to say. Kal and Gil stopped the fight just when it was getting good."

"Good?" Bly questioned.

"You were about to start flinging surgical scalpels," Kal said, sharply.

"Huh," Bly said, "actually, I vaguely remember that...it still resembles more of a well-chewed on piece of nerf than an arm," Bly said, wryly, staring down at his arm.

"It's in rough shape," Gil agreed, "it's not going to heal with just bacta patches."

Bly looked up at him, "What then?"

Gil grinned, "The boys have come up with a plan to save your arm," he looked over at Kal, "Kal, could you gather up your boys? I think it might be best if they told Bly the plan directly."

# # #


	27. Chapter 27 Super ARC

**Author's Note: This is part of a big chapter, that I am dividing up into smaller, snack-sized portions. So, there are several more chapters coming right on the heels of this one. And, yes, this story was mistakenly marked "complete," which it is not. There was a reason for it, actually. At one time, the story was complete. The story ended with Bly and Aayla admitting their feelings to each other, having some hot steamy passion, and looking toward the future. Well, folks liked the story, and asked for a sequel. So, I began adding more chapters to the original, rather than starting a whole new story. Hence, the reason why it still says: "Complete." I'll correct that. Sorry for the confusion. As always, thank you very much for the corrections, and comments.– Diana**

**Chapter 27**

"**More Than Just A Clone"**

Kal nodded, and left the room. Bly watched him leave, a puzzled look on his face. Bly looked back down at his arm again, and back up at Gil.

"You think this arm can be saved?" Bly asked the doctor, quietly. Bly's face was a mixture of emotions- doubt, trepidation, and a little bit of stubborn optimism.

Gil folded his arms across his chest, and studied Bly's arm thoughtfully. Then, he studied Bly for several more moments, as if choosing his words carefully, "Well, son, I don't think there's an easy answer to that question. But, let me ask you this… are you willing to be patient, take things slow, and give things time to heal, in order to get this arm of yours back?"

Bly considered Gil's words carefully, and then nodded, "If you're asking how much I'm willing to go through before just giving up, or asking for a mechanical limb?" Bly looked down at his mangled arm, "I've gone through a lot of pain so far. I reckon I can handle a lot more if it means I get to keep all my limbs," Bly got a smirk on his face, and added, "I've gotten rather attached to them."

Fi groaned, "That was bad, bro! I'll let that one slide since you are drugged up and poisoned."

Gil had a big grin on his face, "I don't know, Fi. I rather like him. I was given the impression that ARCs were an overly serious lot. It seems I was mistaken." He looked down at Bly's arm again, "We'll do our best to minimize the pain part of things. With the amount of times you've been shot recently, I think you've suffered enough."

Bly shook his head, "I don't need to be drugged up. I'm-"

"-fine," Gil filled in for him, "yes, I know. You're super-ARC. You feel no pain."

Fi snorted from his spot on the wall, and started singing "super ARC" under his breath.

Bly reached out with his good hand, and snaked a package of bandages off the table by his bed. He whipped the package at Fi, expertly aiming and hitting his target. However, Fi reached right up and easily snatched the package out of the air. He immediately flung it right back at Bly. Bly's good hand came up, lightning-quick, and immediately sent it right back toward Fi. Gil grunted in annoyance, and intercepted the package mid-throw. He replaced it back on the table, muttering with annoyance about 'frakkin' clone reflexes.'

Then, he turned on both Fi and Bly, "Both of you, behave!" Gil said, grabbing a huge syringe out of a nearby cabinet. "I keep this filled up at all times just in the event of badly behaved clones!"

"Like you," Fi mouthed to Bly, behind Gil's back.

Bly reached behind Gil to grab the package of bandages again, but Gil grabbed it from him, and smacked his hand. Then, demonstrating impressively fast reflexes of his own, Gil grabbed the syringe, pinned Bly down, and prepared to inject him in the hip with the huge syringe.

Bly dropped the package, and put his one hand up in surrender: "OK! OK!"

"Yes?" Gil said, glowering at Bly, "you have something you wanted to say?"

"I'll… uh…" Bly continued to look at the huge syringe, then over at Fi, then back at the syringe, he sighed heavily, "uh… behave."

Gil pulled back with the syringe, resuming his previous stance next to the bed. Bly relaxed back into the bed, giving Fi one last glower.

Fi chuckled triumphantly from his place along the wall. Before Fi could enjoy his self-perceived moment of victory, Gil was on him, syringe in hand. "No teasing my patients!" Gil said, loudly, one hand pinning Fi up against the wall, the other hand holding the syringe right against Fi's hip. Well, not quite the hip. A bit closer to the rump, actually. "There's enough sedative in here to knock you out for two days, Fi. And, this needle is even more painful than it looks—especially where I plan on injecting you with it."

Fi stopped laughing, and stared down at the needle, wide-eyed, "You wouldn't…"

Gil pushed Fi up against the wall even tighter, "Come now, Fi, I think you know me a bit better than that."

Fi swallowed, and eyed the needle one last time. Then, he gave Gil a look of respect, along with an apology, "Sorry, sir. I was wrong, and out-of-line."

Gil didn't relent, "Now, apologize to him," Gil said, nodding his head back toward Bly.

Fi opened his mouth to protest, "But-"

"Exactly, Fi."

Gil brought the needle close enough that Fi could feel the point against his skin. The slightest movement and the point would puncture his skin.

Bly bit his lip to keep from laughing. He liked this doctor, a lot.

"Sorry, Bly," Fi said, very quietly, concentrating on not moving at all.

"Well, that's much better," Gil said, brightly, removing the needle, and swiftly putting it back into the cabinet. Suddenly, he was all smiles again, as if the threatening needle incident had never happened. He was back into his 'smiling country doctor' mode.

Bly eyed him curiously, trying to figure out how he could switch from being so threatening and so congenial in the blink of an eye. But, then again, all three million clones shared that exact same trait, going from deadly killers to laughing brothers in a heartbeat.

Gil grabbed the package of bandages and tossed it at Fi. Fi caught it, and looked at it in confusion, trying to figure out what Gil was up to now. Gil gestured to Fi, "Come on, Fi, make yourself useful."

Gil grabbed bacta pads and began careful placing them around Bly's arm.

"Time to rewrap your arm," Gil explained, "although, I don't think these smaller bacta patches are going to do too much. What you need is sustained time in a full-sized tank."

Fi began working with the doctor, expertly wrapping the pads as Gil put them in place.

"How much time?" Bly asked, doing his best to ignore the sensations of his arm being touched.

"With the severity of these burns, and muscle damage, I'd think it would take several weeks," Gil said, calmly, his attention focused on rewrapping Bly's arm.

"Several weeks?" Bly protested, looking up, startled. He immediately regretted it, because the motion caused his arm to pull painfully in Gil and Fi's group. Bly hissed against the pain, and closed his eyes.

"Hold still, Commander," Gil reprimanded, grabbing firm hold of Bly's arm. The doctor's firm grip just made everything hurt even more.

"I didn't mean that," Bly said quietly, remembering his earlier promise to Gil that he was willing to do anything to save his arm, "several weeks is fine."

"Yes, you did," Gil laughed, good-naturedly, "I have yet to meet a clone who didn't put up a huge fuss about going into the bacta tank. I don't see why you would be any different."

Bly closed his eyes, unable to respond. He was trying to ignore the insane firing of the nerves along his arm. He gritted his teeth every time his arm was touched, trying to avoid groaning out loud.

It got better once they were done with the bacta wrap, and started adding the layers of padding on the outside. Bly started breathing easier as he felt layer after layer of padding go on, protecting his arm from the outside world. With all that padding, his nerves weren't irritated so easily. At long last, Fi and Gilamar tucked his arm back into its' sling.

"Hey, SuperARC, we're done," Fi said, gently, his tone lightly teasing.

Bly opened his eyes and looked at Fi.

"Are you OK, brother?" Fi asked, softly.

"Uh, yeah," Bly answered, still getting himself back together and not capable of saying anything more at the moment.

"It's bad, isn't it?" Fi asked, gently.

Bly nodded, not really having the words to describe what he was feeling. But, he also knew with Fi, he didn't have to. Fi had already been through a long recovery, so he had a good perspective already. Bly knew it probably wasn't a coincidence that they'd picked Fi to keep him company.

Fi shook his head sadly, "You were shot by your own brothers." He said it more of a statement to himself, as if still trying to comprehend the post-Order 66 world.

Bly thought about this for a long moment, thinking back to that day, wondering what had happened to Smiley and the others. Were they even still alive? What was life like for _them_ in the post-66 world?

Bly's face must have betrayed his thoughts. Fi shook his head, "Those men were your responsibility once, Bly. But, you're not responsible for them anymore. The world has changed. You're a free man, now. You need to start thinking like a free man."

Bly was silent a long moment, as if trying to take in what being "free" actually meant. He looked at Gil, who was putting away his medical supplies. "Speaking of free, how long do I need to stay here?" Bly gestured with his good hand to the medbay in general.

Gil smiled back, "Ah, freedom beckons, does it? Well, just until the strill venom works its' way out of your system, and you can stand up without falling flat on your face. Fair enough?"

Bly nodded.

Gil crossed his arms, a hint of a teasing smile on his face, "Why? Do you have someplace you need to be?"

Fi smiled smugly, "Bly has a-"

"Shut it, Fi," Bly said, glaring at him.

"Is this about you and the General?" Gil asked kindly.

Bly looked up at him, surprised. Bly looked over at Fi.

Fi shrugged innocently, "Hey, don't look at me. I've been here keeping an eye on you all morning, making sure you didn't scalp the Kaminoan."

Gil cut in before Bly could retort back to Fi.

"We had breakfast with General Secura," Gil said smoothly, "she told us how you were injured, and what you've been going through over the past week."

"Oh," Bly said, wondering where Aayla was, and just how much she had 'shared.' There were some things he'd rather not share with the world at large, despite what Fi had already inferred. Clones were notorious gossips, particularly when it came to the topic of sex, and who was having it.

"Son, this isn't the Jedi Temple. No one is going to crack down on you for having a relationship with someone," Gil said kindly.

That one simple statement lifted a huge burden off of Bly. He wished Aayla was there to hear it. Somehow, despite everything that had happened and changed over the past week, they were both still walking on a relationship tightrope now that they were around other people again.

"She's my wife," Bly suddenly blurted out, eager to get it off his chest, "did she tell you that?"

Gil blinked in surprise. "No, she left that part out."

Bly looked confused and crestfallen.

Gil put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "But, we didn't get to finish our discussion either."

Bly wanted to ask why, but figured maybe he should ask Aayla when he saw her, "Where is she?"

"She's with Laseema, at the moment. She'll be along soon," Gil said.

Bly nodded his head. His mind still spinning, trying to figure out why Aayala would tell everyone they were in a relationship, but not that they were married. Was she somehow ashamed of him, now that she was around another Jedi? No. Couldn't be? Could it? That didn't make any sense. Did it? An awkward silence ensued for a moment. Bly struggled to fill the silence, and quell his awkward, painful thoughts.

"A clone marrying a Jedi, imagine that, huh?" Bly said, wanting to fill the awkward silence. He felt like he needed to say the words outloud, as it all suddenly seemed unreal to him. Surrounded by brothers, and being back in the 'clone world,' his relationship to Aayla suddenly seemed like just the lusfful, wishful stuff of nighttime fantasy again.

# # #


	28. Chapter 28 Secrets

**More Than Just A Clone**

**Chapter 28**

There was a gasp at the door. Kal walked in accompanied by his six sons, the over-sized, genius clones known as 'the Nulls.' Kal had overheard Bly's comment and turned pale.

"What did you say?" Kal asked quietly, stopping in his tracks.

Bly suddenly felt terribly awkward discussing his relationship with so many people in the room. It was especially awkward with Kal, and his imposing pack of supercommandos. But, Bly respected the former training Sergeant, and he'd just asked him a direct question.

Bly took a deep breath, and then plunged in to his answer. He felt like he was plunging himself into a deep pit, "I said, sir, it is a strange concept that a Jedi would want to marry a clone." Bly regretted ever starting the whole painfully awkward conversation.

"And, you are referring to what, exactly?" Kal asked, in that same, unsettling, quiet tone, not moving from where he had stopped, just inside the door. The six Nulls were piled up behind him, watching, eerily quiet.

Bly gritted his teeth, and quickly muttered several of his favorite curse words under his breath. (Of course, with Bly, favorite curse words were quite an expansive list.)

Only Gil was close enough to hear him. He gave him a sideways glance under raised eyebrows. Bly shrugged with his one good shoulder, un-apologetically. _Hey, everyone has their coping mechanism. I curse. If you don't like it, you can bite my-_

"I'm waiting," Kal prompted, tapping his foot, impatiently.

"Aayla, uh, General Secura, and I, she's my wife," Bly blurted out quickly, wishing he could have found a better time, place and way to say it.

"I see," Kal said, some of the color coming back into his face.

'_I see?'_ Bly thought indignantly. _The most important thing to ever happen in my life, and he says 'I see?' A Jedi marries a clone, __**she**__ proposes to __**him**__, and he says: 'I see' like I've just told him 'I think it might rain tomorrow, Sargent.' _

Kal paused a moment longer, seemingly frozen in place, stuck in the doorframe of the medbay. One of his sons, (Bly thought it could be the one called 'Ordo,' but wasn't sure), stepped forward and murmured quietly to his father. Kal nodded, and then ran a hand over his face, seemingly to compose himself.

Without another word, Kal seemed to spark back to life, and continued walking into the room. The Nulls all fell into step behind him, like his own private Army. Bly watched them warily, thinking they lived up to their reputation. They were a very intimidating pack of clones. He'd only ever seen them from a distance at Kamino, and heard stories of their exploits and intellectual genius. Most clones, even the ARCs, regarded the Nulls with a healthy bit of both fear and envy. The Nulls were from the very first batch of genes ever tampered with by the Kaminoans, hence the name "Nulls." They were larger, wilder, and intellectually superior to the later clone models. They were considered a failure by the Kaminoans because by age two they already were rebelling and refusing to carry out orders. If not for the interference of Skirata, they would have been executed as two-year olds. Later batches of clone had genetic tampering that made them more compliant and willing to follow orders.

Kal stood at the foot of Bly's bed, and the Nulls circled around him, three on each side. They all stared down at Bly. Bly took a deep breath, trying not to feel intimidated, by the sudden appearance of these super-brothers. Lying flat on his back, unarmed, he felt very exposed. He looked around at the Nulls, trying to figure out with staring, which Null was which.

"Gil," Kal said, with a nod to the doctor.

"Thank you for coming," Gil said, after clearing his throat, as if trying to clear the awkwardness out of the room. "I thought it would help if we all discussed the plan together, in the company of Commander Bly. OK, son?"

_Huh? _Bly looked over at Gil. _OK, he just said my name, and I'll bet I was supposed to have been paying attention that. _

Bly nodded his head, hoping that was an appropriate response. Everyone seemed to be satisfied with that response, and Bly breathed a sigh of relief. He tried to pay more attention, but his mind was still racing.

_What the shab was that thing just now with Sergeant Kal? If Gil says relationships here are no big deal, why did would the Sergeant look like he's seen a ghost at the mention of a Jedi marrying a clone?_

Bly felt completely lost, like he was suddenly thrown into a bolo match where they'd suddenly changed the rules halfway through the game.

Gil went and stood by Bly's good shoulder, resting a hand on Bly's shoulder comfortingly. Bly looked up at him, curiously. For some reason, the middle-aged warrior doctor had taken an instant liking to Bly, (except when Bly was throwing scalpels at Kaminoans, or boxes of bandages at Fi. Mental note: stop throwing things.) Bly had to admit that he rather liked having the idea of having this Mando warrior watching out for him. Now, he had both a Jedi General, and a Mando warrior, watching his back.

Fi left his position on the wall, and came and stood by Bly's other shoulder. Bly had only ever worked with Fi's team, Omega, for a couple of weeks, during the first year of the war. But, the mission had been a memorable one, and friendships had been forged during that time. Bly had taken a liking to all four members of Omega Squad. Bly had been devastated when he'd received the news that Fi had died.

"OK, tell him Ordo," Kal said, wasting no time, "tell him the plan."

"What about General Secura?" Ordo asked.

"Laseema is bringing her now," Kal answered.

Bly immediately perked up at the mention of Aayla's name. He hadn't seen her since the evening before, right before the attack by Walon's hell beast. He peered around the people gathered in MedBay, trying to catch a glimpse of Aayla, without seeming too obvious about it.

As if summoned, the two women walked in. Their body language, and the way they were talking and laughing together, showed how they were already comfortable in each other's presence. Aayla smiled politely at each of the Nulls, greeting each of them by name. Bly looked at Aayla, impressed. Did she just meet all of them, or had she known them previously? She'd never mentioned them before, but, then again, she didn't tell him all of her secrets, just like he didn't tell her all of his.

Because of the sheer number of people in the room, she couldn't easily get near the head of the bed. So, she stood politely off to the side by the foot of the bed, standing out of the way.

Bly felt a keen sense of disappointment that he wasn't able to get any closer to her, but he understood she was trying to be as unobtrusive as possible at Kyrimorut. He felt a strong urge to just touch her again, and feel her close next to him. Her eyes finally sought out his.

Their eyes met, and they exchanged a wealth of feelings and messages without even needing to speak. She wanted to know if he was OK. She apologized for not coming sooner. He tried to reassure her with his look. He was fine. It was just good to see her - nothing else mattered.

Bly was so transfixed in looking at Aayla that he didn't realize Ordo had already started speaking. Ordo was providing operational details on the mission. OK, maybe some other stuff _did_ matter. Bly felt a stab of guilt that he hadn't been paying better attention, especially since Kal's sons were working on his behalf.

Bly hoped his lapse in attention hadn't been noticeable. He fixed his gaze on Ordo's face, and tried to put on his best 'yes, I'm listening' look. He'd gotten through years of tactical lectures and briefings by perfecting that look.

But, what he really wanted to do was look at Aayla. Was she really OK? She looked tired. Had something, or someone, prevented her from sleeping? Who? He'd kill the rotten space worm who-

_No, wait. Put that on hold. The mission. Focus. Ordo. Focus on Ordo. The briefing. _Bly chastised himself for getting distracted again by Aayla, and forced himself to focus on Ordo. But, there was a loud voice crying out inside of him that didn't want to do a briefing. That part of him was crying out for Aayla. When he'd been away from his brothers, he'd desperately wanted to be with them again. Now that he was back amongst brothers, he wanted time alone with Aayla. Bly felt torn, like he was being tugged between two different worlds. _Focus!_ Bly mentally yelled at himself. He couldn't remember ever having such difficulties focusing. _The mission always comes first… Doesn't it?_

Ordo was still speaking, standing ramrod straight next to his father and brothers. All eyes were turned to him, listening. Bly was impressed with the intensity of his brothers. The other five Nulls stood perfectly still in the various poses they'd assumed around his bed. Each of them had their eyes locked on Ordo, and Bly knew they were memorizing every detail of the plan. All six Nulls had eidetic memories.

"… analysis, Mereel and I decided that our best chance to get a hold of a full-size bacta tank would be to liberate one from a ship, rather than from an Imperial base on an outpost."

_They were planning on raiding an Imperial ship? Getting one from a moving target? Taking on other brothers?_

Bly's first instinct was to object. There were so many things that could go wrong with the plan. He couldn't have others risking themselves on his behalf. What if one of Kal's sons was maimed, or killed? His other instinct was to jump in and sign up for the mission. He had never shirked his duty. One-armed or not, he couldn't stand the thought of being left behind while others risked themselves on his behalf.

But, he was also troubled by the cruel reality created in the post-order 66 world… going up against the Empire meant going up against other brothers.

Jumping in front of all those shots for Aayla was different. He'd taken on all the pain, and hadn't inflected any in return. If it came down to it, could he fire upon, injure, or even kill other brothers?

He'd never asked Aayla what had happened after he'd lost consciousness on Felucia. How had she gotten him from where he'd fallen to the ship? He didn't remember walking, and didn't think he could've been capable of it. She must have carried him. Did she return fire on their own team? Had she killed any of them? Which ones? He wasn't ready to have that conversation either. It was just too soon. The hurts were just too fresh, and raw. The thought of Aayla having to kill their own team, the men they'd both struggled so hard to keep alive for the past three years, sickened him. He didn't feel ill at what Aayla had done, just at what Order 66 had made all of them do. Or, what the repercussions of Order 66 were about to make all of them do all over again.

Bly looked over at Aayla again. She was studying him, her eyebrows furrowed. Jusik had also entered the room, and had turned his head toward Bly. Bly silently cursed, remembering that when Jedi were around they could pick up on certain thought patterns.

_Yeah, of course, she probably had to kill brothers,_ the thought flashed through Bly's head before he could restrain it, _if she hadn't, we'd both be dead, right now. She did it while dragging my sorry, unconscious carcass to a ship. So, that's the world we live in now? We have to use all of our training to kill each other…_

Aayla continued to look at him. He knew she was trying to 'read him,' trying to figure out what was bothering him. He did his best to give her a reassuring look in return, his trademark 'I'm fine' look.

She actually rolled her eyes at him when he gave her that look. Yeah, he wasn't fooling her for a minute. After three years of working together, she knew him too well.

She then shot him such a look of love and protectiveness that Bly had to look away for a moment. He wasn't used to having anyone looking at him like that. It was almost too much to take in. Bly turned his attention back to Ordo, unable to process all the new and raw emotions between him and Aayla.

Ordo was efficiently going through slide after slide on his datapad, "-so, Mereel, Jaing and I will be in the lead shuttle and will issue the distress call. We'll be just about two clicks out from the moon of Rishi, which should provide adequate cover for the second ship. When the Imperial ship comes in to investigate the distress call, the second ship can come in undetected, using the cover of the moon." The slide came to life with animation, showing the second ship coming in.

"Nice," commented Fi, appreciatively at the animation.

"Thanks," Jaing said. All the high-end computer wizardry was always done by Jaing and Mereel, the most technical of the brothers. The six of them all had unique, complimentary skillsets, and were at their best when they could each focus unhindered on a project in their area of expertise.

Ordo slid his fingers over the slide, changing it again, "The first ship will request to be brought aboard for repairs. When they are, the ship will unfortunately turn out to be catastrophically damaged beyond repair."

The animated version of the first shuttle blew up on Ordo's datapad. Mereel, Jaing and the other Nulls chuckled as they watched the explosion.

"I love blowing things up," Jaing said, with a happy smile.

All of his brothers chuckled, except for Ordo, who was all seriousness, as usual.

"Still too small," Mereel said, looking at the explosion with a critical eye, "I think we need a _bigger_ boom."

"Yes, well, balance _will_ be extremely important here," Ordo made eye contact with everyone, and carefully emphasized the the words, "we need a large enough explosion to distract everyone and create mass confusion and chaos. However, we do not want to risk damaging the bacta tank, the one piece of merchandise this entire mission hovers around."

"Where is this bacta tank?" Gil asked, peering at the datapad.

Ordo swiped his finger across the datapad, changing the view, and magnifying a section, "Here in the medbay, aft in the ship."

"And, the docking bays are toward the center," Kal mulled over thoughtfully, "OK, yeah, we'll have to be careful about containing debris outthrows." He looked over at Jaing and Mereel, "I'll be counting on the two of you for precise math on the explosive outlays."

Mereel and Jaing put their heads together, murmuring back and forth. Jaing whipped a small datapad out of his utility belt, and did a quick calculation. He looked back up at his father, "It can definitely be done. We just need to be precise with how we lay down our explosives. We also may need to make last minute adjustments, depending upon where in the cargo bay we're docked, and what else is in the bay that could magnify the explosion and increase the damage from flying debris."

Bly mentally winced, as he pictured all the 'damage' from flying debris. Some of that damage they were talking about would be body parts of brothers. Clone brothers.

Bly pointed to a diagram showing a mock-up of the explosion pattern, "Is all that really necessary?"

"You worried about collateral damage?" Ordo asked, pinning his gaze on Bly's. At that moment, Bly came to appreciate how much bigger the Nulls were than the average clone. Not that Bly considered himself average by any means. He was an Alpha-Arc, after all, which placed him amongst one of the elite, as well. He took great pride in that, or, well, at least he _did_, up until a week ago. But, Bly could see now why these Nulls had gotten such a reputation at Kamino. Nulls were larger, heavier, and bulkier than other clones. When you were lying in bed injured, and had six Nulls standing over you, well, that height and weight difference was intimidating.

_Collateral damage? _ _Is that what you're calling, it Ordo?_

Bly met Ordo's gaze evenly, "Yeah, I am. It's not worth it if brothers lose their lives because of this. I'd rather my arm, than see a whole slew of brothers get blown to bits because of this."

Ordo's eyes sought out Kal's, looking for guidance. Kal and Gil looked back and forth at each other, trying to decide whom should answer. It was Gil who decided to take on the tough question.

"Son, a line was crossed the day of Order 66, and it can't be uncrossed. We can't go back to the way things were, much as we all might want that. Those boys in white onboard that ship aren't brothers anymore. They might be clones, and they might have the same face as you, and Ordo, but, they aren't brothers. They're called stormtroopers now. And, unless a stormie contacts us specifically requesting amnesty at Kyrimorut, well, all stormies are the enemy now. While we're not going to go on a killing spree of boys in white, we can't think of them as brothers anymore either. They're under new management now. So, they certainly won't treat us as brothers if we run into them. All the rules have changed now. The brotherhood of the clones, well, it's broken."

A heavy silence decided over the room after Gil finished speaking.

Bly weighed over Gil's words, letting the words sink in. He knew Gil was right. He'd seen that reality for himself when he'd seen Commander Appo and the 501st on the newscast. It was what had broken his heart, and led him to seek out Mandalore in the first place. But, Bly needed some small piece of hope before he could accept that the brotherhood was truly dead — killed by the horror that was now the Empire.

Bly looked around, taking in the MedBay, but his eyes indicating Kyrimorut in general, "This place, a brother-, er, a Stormie could come here, if he wanted to denounce the Empire, and just wanted to be a clone again?"

Kal finally spoke. He stepped forward, and put a hand on Kal's good arm. His voice was thick with emotion. Bly wasn't sure why, but something about this conversation had touched a chord with Kal, "That's what Kyrimorut is all about. It's a safe haven."

"For… brothers?" Bly asked, wondering if it was OK to still even use that word anymore.

Kal nodded, his eyes looking suspiciously moist.

"Then, the brotherhood is not dead, after all," Bly said, heaving a huge sigh of relief, "it's still alive here," he looked around at the Nulls, Kal, Fi, Jusik, and Gil, and finally at Aayla, and Laseema, and smiled, "at Kyrimorut."

Ordo looked at Kal, Gil and Bly, tapping the datapad in his hand, "Not to change the subject, but, we're all agreed on the plan, then?"

"I should go," Bly immediately chimed in.

He was immediately voted down by a chorus of 'no!' from everyone there.

"Son, you can't even get out of bed," Gil said, kindly.

"Yeah, but-" Bly began to protest.

"No!" came the resounding chorus from everyone there again.

"What about me?" Fi asked, wiggling his way in closer to Bly.

"Sorry, Fi," Ordo said, "I kind of planned on you-"

"We thought you could look after Bly," Kal chimed in, kindly.

"Since you're both a medic, and an old friend," Gil added.

Fi scowled, and then shrugged. He looked at Bly sympathetically, "They've been like this ever since I got injured two years ago. I hardly ever get to go."

Bly nodded his head, scowling in sympathetic understanding.

Walon laughed.

"What's so funny?" Kal asked.

"These two," Walon said, indicating Bly and Fi, with a sweep of his head, "they act like they're being punished or something because they can't go along on the mission where you get to blow things up, and get shot at."

Fi sighed, "It's been a very long time since I've blown _anything_ up."

Bly looked at him, "Well, having been shot at rather recently, I can't say I'm going to miss that part."

Fi brightened up, and reached over to punch Bly playfully in his good shoulder, "Hey, this is a good thing, actually! Now, I'm finally not the only one who has to stay behind! We could plan all kinds of pranks on them while they're gone!"

The Nulls exchanged uneasy glances. Bly cocked his head to the side, and studied Fi, trying to figure out if he was kidding or not.

Kal cleared his throat, "If we could, get back to finalizing the details-"

"I want to go," Aayla cut in.

All eyes turned to her. Bly's eyes flew to her face, but Aayla refused to meet his look.

Ordo looked down at his datapad, "Actually, we were planning on including you, General Secura. We figured two Jedi were better than one. We've got a tight schedule planned, and we need both you and Jusik to help us open doors, get us security codes, you know, the usual stuff that it's useful to have a Jedi for."

Aayla looked at Jusik, and he just shrugged non-chalantly before looking back at Ordo.

"Glad to know we're useful for something," Aayla muttered.

Kal looked at Aayla, "General, let me make it very clear right now that you are not in charge of this mission. My son, Ordo, will be leading this assault. You are going along for tactical support only. If you do not wish to fulfill that role, you can remain behind with the injured."

"Hey," Fi objected.

"Sorry, son," Kal said, "the injured, and those looking after the injured."

Fi squared his shoulders, "That's better."

Kal looked over at Aayla, "Do we understand each other, Jedi Secura?" Kal's eyes bored into Aayla's, and he emphasized the word _Jedi_ very carefully. Being a Jedi right now was a very dangerous thing, indeed. Even being around Jedi placed your life at great risk. Kal wanted Aayla to understand how tenuous her position really was at Kyrimorut.


	29. Chapter 29 Distraction

_Revised: May 28, 2013. Thank you to CatchMeIfYouCan for pointing out an error in this chapter. (I mistakenly referred to Bly as a Captain. I know why I did it, too. In the beginning, Ordo is mentioned and his rank is Captain.)_

"**More Than Just A Clone"**

**Chapter 29**

Aayla flushed, and looked uncomfortable. She looked as if she was about to say something, and then stopped. She just nodded, and then muttered, "Of course, Sergeant, I'll help in whatever way Captain Ordo sees fit."

Bly scowled, and his face darkened. Gil must have felt Bly's muscles tensing up under the hand he'd placed on Bly's shoulder.

"Easy, son," Gil said, "we'll watch out for her. You can rest easy."

_Rest easy? While Aayla risks her life just to get me a bacta tank?_ Bly's eyes sought out Aayla's again. This time, Aayla met his gaze and the intensity of it made him suck his breath in. He saw her grim determination to see the mission through. He saw the passion she felt for him – a passion that he echoed back. He also saw something else still lingering in her gaze. Guilt? What did she have to feel guilty about? Did she still feel responsible for him getting injured? He'd have to set her straight on that one. It had entirely been his decision to do what he'd done. And, it had been his brothers, or, well, his former brothers now, who'd done the shooting. So, why was she carrying this burden of guilt around?

Bly looked back again at the datapad Ordo was holding up as he explained some last minute details pertaining to the actual removal of the tank, and transporting it through the corridors back it to the second ship.

_So much has to go right in order for this to work. _ He looked around the room at all the different warriors who had assembled to be a part of this plan. Bly shook his head slowly.

The meeting ended, and people began leaving the room. Aayla moved closer to Bly's side. She reached for his good hand. Bly felt his skin tingle, even from this small bit of physical contact with his mate. But, much as he was craving more time with Aayla, he had to take care of a more urgent matter first.

"Ordo, Sergeant Kal, would you stay?" Bly asked.

Aayla gave Bly gave Bly a puzzled look, but didn't say anything.

Ordo and Kal, who would have been talking together in low voices as they walked out of the room, turned around together as one. The looked at each other, surprised, then turned around and walked back to Bly's bed.

"What's this about?" Kal asked.

Ordo folded his arms across his chest, and just gave Bly an even, assessing look. Bly knew that Ordo was someone whom you didn't want to cross.

"This mission," Bly began, uncomfortable with this conversation, but feeling compelled to raise it, "it's a big risk to take on at this time, challenging the Empire… something could go wrong, Sergeant Kal, and one of your sons, well, uh…" Bly felt like he was tripping on his words. He struggled to get across what he was he feeling so that Kal and Ordo would understand. "It's just not worth it, sir. Not for one person. I'd rather lose the arm, than have you lose one of your sons."

Kal was completely silent, and the silence was unnerving. Bly looked to Ordo, to see if perhaps he'd gotten through to the clone he'd come to think of as the 'Alpha-Null.' Ordo had worked out the strategic plan for the mission. Surely he could see that the risk was just unacceptable?

Ordo turned his gaze to Kal, and waited calmly and patiently. His body language clearly said that Kal would be the one who'd be fielding this question.

The silence dragged on, and Bly wondered if he should say something else. Had he offended Kal? Did he need to explain himself better-

Aayla gave his hand a comforting squeeze. Bly looked up, meeting her gaze. She gave him a comforting smile, but her eyes also conveyed a message. _ Be patient. Wait._

Kal looked down at their interlocked hands, and then he looked directly at each of them. He shook his head, as if they were a tricky question he didn't know the answer to.

Then, he finally took a deep breath, and answered Bly: "Request denied, Commander Bly."

Bly opened his mouth to protest, but Kal put a finger, telling him to wait.

"I'm not done, Commander. This mission will proceed tomorrow whether with or without your blessing. This mission has grown beyond just you. This place," Kal's eyes looked around, as if he could see through the walls, and take in all of Kyrimorut, "was built to be a safe bastion for all clones wishing to flee slavery. Order 66 changed a lot of things, but Kyrimorut remains. We are still here for clones who can find their way here. You are the first to find us, but we hope there will be more in the future. The extent of your injuries," Kal nodded, indicating more than just Bly's arm, but implying the other blaster marks he had on him as well, "reminds us that some of those coming here may be critically injured. Right now, we do not have the medical facilities to deal with such injuries. We could not even deal with such an injury if it happened to one of us. So, Commander, this bacta tank is for all of Kyrimorut. You just happened to be the catalyst to remind us we need to outfit ourselves as if there is still a war going on. And, there is a war still going on. It just has a much more insidious face than it had when all we had to do was shoot at tinnies, and moan about Grievous."

"When you put it that way, you make it sound glamorous," Fi quipped, then he sighed. "I do miss those days, actually."

"It got old after a while, Fi," Bly said, "although, it is a shame that you got pulled out of the war before you'd had your share of shooting tinnies."

"Not the shooting I miss so much, really," Fi said, looking unusually serious for Fi, "but, the team that I did it all with."

The room grew very quiet for a long moment.

Kal studied Bly, as if measuring his character, "You're a good man, Bly. I always figured you for one of the good ones. I appreciate your concern for my sons," something changed in the pitch of Kal's voice when he said the words _my sons_. There was a whole world of emotions contained in those words. "But, we're leaving at 0500 tomorrow morning to get that tank. It could save a lot of lives here in the future. Whether you choose to take a dunk into it upon our return is entirely up to you. Any risk my sons are taking on this missions is their choice as free men. They are doing it because of their belief it is the right thing to do, in order to help others become free in the future. You suddenly showing up in the woods yesterday just reminded us of our mission." Kal paused for a moment. He looked a bit distant for a moment, as if remembering something painful he'd rather forget, "Your timing was rather good actually. We could all use a distraction, right about now."

"A distraction?" Bly questioned, wondering if he was the distraction, or if taking on the Empire counted as a 'distraction.'

Kal didn't elaborate any further.

"Well, rest easy, son," Kal nodded his head to Bly, and then gave a very brief to Aayla. He left the room, accompanied by Ordo, who'd been completely silent for the entire conversation.

_Son? Now, Kal was calling me son, too? What brought that about? _Bly stared after where Kal had just exited the room, a puzzled expression on his face. He was trying to work through all the complicated emotions his arrival at Kyrimorut had brought about, but he just couldn't process it all. Or, maybe it was the effect of the extra-strong painkiller Fi had pumped into his system. He just felt confused, at the moment, and he was normally a decisive, quick-acting clone.

"You, OK?" Aayla asked, gently rubbing the back of his hand.

"Uh, yeah," Bly answered after a moment.

"You need anything?" Fi asked, from his position, still perched on the next bed.

Bly looked at Aayla and again felt a strong longing to be with her alone, and someplace other than the medical bay.

"Yeah, I do," Bly said, "I need to get out of here."

Fi looked confused for a moment, and a bit hurt, "Kyrimorut?"

Bly smiled, "No, Fi, just the medical bay." He nodded his head, indicating Aayla.

Fi's lips formed in an "oh," instantly understanding. He hopped off the bed, "I'll track down the doc, and see if I can get you sprung. You'll probably have to stay in bed, but maybe you can do it back in the General's quarters." Fi still flushed at the end of the sentence. Even though Bly had told him he and Aayla were married, the whole idea still seemed somehow very taboo.

Bly smiled widely. He was still getting used to the idea himself. And, it just made the reality that much more exciting. He looked up at Aayla, an excited sparkle in his eyes.

"Yes, I'd like to see these quarters of yours, _General Secura_," Bly said, dropping his voice into a sexy drawl.

Aayla rolled her eyes, at first, and smacked his hand. But, after Fi left the room, and they were alone, she quietly said back, "Well, Commander Bly, yes, I definitely _need_ to see you in my personal quarters, if it can be arranged. Very urgent." She picked up the hand that she was holding and pressed it up against her chest, close to her heart.

Bly smiled at her, then studied her for a moment, "Hey, you looked a bit tired when you first came in? Are you OK?"

Aayla laughed gently, and reached her other hand up to caress the side of Bly's face. Bly leaned in to her touch, still amazed how a simple touch from this woman could affect him so powerfully.

She let her hand wander freely across his cheekbone, and then up over the scar that cut deeply above his left eye. She remembered when he'd gotten the scar. They'd been involved in a building collapse, that had left both of them battered and badly injured from falling debris. Bly had been cracked across the face with a falling beam. His helmet had taken the brunt of the punishment, and was completely destroyed. But, he still had a deep cut over one eye that was bleeding badly. Aayla remembered Bly digging her out from under the fallen rubble with his bare hands. He looked such a sight with all the blood running down his face. He kept blinking rapidly, trying to clear the blood from his eyes. Occasionally, he'd swipe at the blood with one hand, trying to clear it away as if it was just a nuisance. He was singularly focused on getting Aayla digging Aayla. She remembered very clearly his first words to her: "Are you OK?"

He always had a way of putting her welfare before his own. She later found out he'd never gone to the medcenter to get that cut stitched up, or healed. He'd just cleaned it up himself, grabbed a spare helmet from someplace, and gone back into the battle. No wonder it had scarred so badly. At the time, she'd wanted to lecture him for not taking better care of himself. Although, there was a part of her, deep down inside, that found his scar rather rakish and sexy. Seeing it always reminded her of that moment when he was there for her, digging her out with his bare hands.

"You know, you ask me that a lot," Aayla said, as she gently caressed her fingers across his face. The affect was so soothing that Bly just had to close his eyes. To Ayala's delight, Bly moaned softly in pleasure. His headache from earlier was completely forgotten under the light, soothing tantalizing touch of Aayla's fingertips. "I will admit I didn't sleep well," Aayla murmured.

Bly cracked his eyes open, and gave her a concerned look. Aayla began massaging the area around his temples, an act that quickly caused Bly to close his eyes again.

"But, I didn't sleep well, because I am no longer used to sleeping alone," Aayla murmured quietly.

Bly's eyes flew open, and met hers. She smiled at Bly, giving him a look full of promised intensity and passion. Bly sucked his breath in.

Bly threw off his covers with his good hand, "OK, we're out of here."

# # #


	30. Chapter 30 Vertigo

**A/N: Hey All! You've all been so wonderful about reviewing! Thanks again! I'll have to confess, even if you didn't review, I'd still keep writing. I love to write. Brings me great pleasure. Speaking of pleasure, things are starting to heat up between Bly and Aayla. Except that pesky strill keeps mucking things up… **

"**More Than Just A Clone"**

**Chapter 30**

He discovered he wasn't wearing very much underneath the blankets, just a pair of military issue boxers. But, he'd worn less during his week aboard the ship with Aayla. He could manage in a pair of skivvies, if need be. He had important business to attend to, and wardrobe difficulties were not going to keep him from it.

"Alright, let's get going," he said to Aayla, as he started to get up.

"Um, Bly, I think perhaps you need to wait for-" Aayla put a restraining hand on Bly's chest.

"No need to wait. I'm _fine_," Bly interrupted, sure that he had spent enough time in medbay. He was an ARC, after all. A good night's sleep, a bacta patch, maybe a stim or two, could fix just about _anything_. He pushed himself up using his good arm.

_Yes, I'm fine. Nothing wrong with me_, Bly kept telling himself. He felt things around him beginning to sway dangerously. "Just lead the way," Bly said, blinking hard a few times to clear his vision.

Aayla saw Bly swaying as he tried to remaining standing. She took one step back, figuring he wasn't going to listen to her. She'd just have to let this one play out. She folded her arms across her chest, and watched, one eyebrow raised up. Bly released the bed, and managed to stay standing on his own power. He smiled triumphantly, grinning at Aayla. Aayla couldn't help but smile back. She realized she was completely helpless to his boyish charm. The man was just too dang sexy.

"See? I'm fine. Let's go," he took a step toward the exit, barefoot, and in his boxers. Aayla had to admit she liked the way the skintight, military-issue boxers clung to his muscular legs. They also did great things for his perfectly-toned buttocks. Clones truly did have perfect phyiques, even better than many Jedi she'd seen. Well, there you go. The result of intense gene manipulation. The Kaminoans had succeeded in creating the perfect butt. Bly stopped, and caught Aayla staring at him.

"You're ogling me," he accused, actually sounded insulted.

Aayla opened her mouth to apologize.

Bly laughed, "Ogle away," he wiggled his butt in her direction, "I'm flattered you find me so irresistible." He laughed again, his laughter coming over Aayla's battered soul like a light soothing balm.

Aayla had seen Bly in various states of undress over the past week. But, she had to admit that the black boxer briefs did good things for enhancing his muscular attributes.

Bly made it a good five or six steps on his own, before the effects of the strill toxin overpowered his body's adrenaline. Aayla's quick reflexes caught Bly before he hit the floor. She lifted him up and carried him back to the bed, shaking her head.

"You really shouldn't carry me when the guys are around," Bly grumbled in his low baritone.

"Then quit sneaking out of bed when you're supposed to be resting!" she pulled the blanket back up over him, and fluffed his pillow a bit. "Besides, none of the guys are around right now. How are you feel-"

Bly groaned as a wave of nausea rushed over him. He started taking deep breaths, in an attempt to avoid throwing up. Aayla could see the moment he lost the battle against the nausea by the panicked look in his eyes. His good hand began reaching out toward the table, grasping for some sort of container to throw up into. Aayla swiftly grabbed a curvy shallow pink dish that looked like it was designed just for that purpose. (_If not, the doc is going to be might annoyed when he comes back…_, Aayla thought.) She thrust the dish into Bly's good hand. Bly rolled partway onto his side, and began heaving into the dish. Aayla rubbed his back, and spoke to him soothingly while his stomach rejected breakfast. Once it stopped, Aayla took the dish from him, and grabbed a cloth to clean his mouth. Aayla grabbed a glass of water and handed it Bly.

"Rinse your mouth," Aayla ordered gently. Bly did so, spitting the water back into the pink dish.

Bly rolled onto his back, and lay there unmoving, still taking quick, deep breaths. Aayla spied a disposal unit on the other side of the room, and tossed the pink dish in there. (_Sure hope the doc wasn't attached to that pink dish…_)

Now that the nausea had passed, Bly started getting some color back into his face. He opened his eyes partway and launched in a tirade of cursing, "I hate that $%#!$#!$%#-"

"Bly!" Aayla interrupted.

"-strill," Bly finished. "Bring me my guns, Aayla! I'm turning that miserable hell hound into Kaminoan stew!" Bly began muttering again, his voice dropping in pitch, and switching over to another long litany of colorful profanity, interspersed with the words "payback" and "Walon's cursed strill."

Now that Bly was feeling better, Aayla decided there was one way to teach Bly a better use for that mouth of his. She leaned over and placed her lips on top of his. One moment, Bly was cursing about Walon's strill, and the next moment he had forgotten the beast even existed. Bly's eyes opened a bit wider in surprise, but then his lips curbed up in a grin. His good arm came and circled around Aayla, pulling her closer. All he could focus on at that moment was kissing Aayla. He moaned, but this was a different kind of moan altogether. It was a deep-throated moan, that almost bordered on a growl. Aayla leaned in closer, placing one hand on the bed next to Bly's head, and thrusting the other hand into his hair. She ran her fingers through his silky black hair, loving the way it felt against her fingertips. It reminded her of a cute little furry creature she'd once petted, except much, much better.

Bly wasn't sure how long they'd remained in that position, because he lost all track of time when he was kissing Aayla. The next thing he remembered hearing was someone clearing their throat by the door. Actually, they were clearing their throat rather loudly, as if they'd been at it for a while, trying to get their attention.

Bly and Aayla finally broke apart and noticed Fi and the doctor standing just inside the door. The doctor was grinning, and Fi was laughing.

"See?" Fi said, pointing to Bly and Aayla, "they need to go their room."

Gil clapped a hand on Fi's shoulder, "Yes, Fi, I can see that they do."

They entered the room, both smiling broadly at Aayla and Bly. Bly returned the smile, not the least bit embarrassed to have been caught kissing Aayla in front of Fi. He was rather proud of it, actually. He looked up at Aayla, a sparkle in his eyes. Aayla laughed, trying to remember the last time she'd seen Bly that happy.

_OK, I guess maybe it would be that night we got married. And, before that? Not sure I ever saw him look like this. Not my serious commander._

Gil came over, and checked Bly over. He frowned a few times, then hemmed and hawwed. He rocked back on his heels, as if thinking. "Well, Captain Bly, your vital signs are all still a bit off. You are definitely still showing symptoms of strill poisoning. How are you feeling?"

Bly gave Aayla a quick pleading look, that Aayla interpreted as: 'Please don't mentioned the vomiting incident.'

Bly opened his mouth to give his trademark answer, except this time, both Gil and Fi recited it along with him: "Fine."

"I _am_ fine," Bly insisted.

"Really, you're not," Gil said, shaking his head, double-checking the readings on the datapad, "all of your vitals are still off. You will be fine, given enough time. But, for now, you've still got quite a bit of the toxin in your system."

Bly looked at the doc miserably, "Does that mean I have to stay here in medbay?" He reached up to grab Aayla's hand in his, and gave the doctor a pleading look.

The doc looked thoughtful. He looked at Aayla, "So, you're coming along on our little joyride tomorrow?"

Aayla nodded. The doctor looked back at Bly, and then back at Aayla. He shook his head for a moment, and then muttered: "I'm turning into a sympathetic old fool in my old age." He held up his wrist comm, and said: "Jaing, Mereel, do you boys have a few minutes to help me move something heavy from one side of the bastion to the other?"

There was a pause, and then the response, from Jaing: "Right now?"

The doctor turned, and looked at Bly, "Yeah, now," the doc confirmed.

A pause, then, "OK, doc. We're coming," Jaing confirmed.

The doctor studied Bly another moment, and then muttered, "Remind me to add anti-grav stretcher to the list of things we need to steal."

Fi received a buzz on his comlink and stepped aside to take it. "The wife needs me," he announced a moment later, "I'll catch up with you two later, Bly. Take it easy." Then, he stopped, looked back at Bly, and started laughing, "I mean, not necessarily easy, take it-" Fi then noticed Aayla staring at him, and turned bright red. "Not that I'm trying to tell you how to take it, General, because that would be highly inappropriate. What I mean by 'take it' is-"

"Fi," the doctor said, and pointed toward the door, "you're supposed to meet your wife, remember?"

Fi hightailed it out the medbay without another word. Bly looked up at Aayla, and burst out laughing, "Poor Fi! I don't think I've ever seen him at such a loss for words!"

The doctor walked out to the hallway, after Fi, to await Jaing and Mereel. Aayla figured he wanted to brief them of their new assignment discretely. Even so, when they arrived, they still came into the medbay with big grins on their faces.

Mereel walked up to Bly and punched him playfully, "Big afternoon, today, eh?"

Jaing joined in, "No strill bite is going to hold you down, huh, Bly?"

Bly laughed, and didn't look fazed at all by the good-natured teasing, "Just looking for a change of scenery is all. I hope I didn't drag you away from anything too important?" Bly asked.

"Just finalizing the details for tomorrow," Jaing said, with a shrug.

Bly's good humor faded at the reminder of the upcoming mission.

"Have some faith in us, ARCie," Mereel said, catching on to Bly's expression. "We can do this thing without getting ourselves killed."

Bly looked at him, "Hey, I didn't mean-"

Mereel gripped Bly by his good arm, "I know you didn't. So quit your fussing and enjoy your day with your girl. Now, up you go!" With that, Mereel hauled Bly up and out of the bed. Jaing caught him on the other side, grabbing him around the waist, since he couldn't grab on to his injured arm and shoulder. They both looked down at Bly's boxer shorts, then over to the doctor.

"Hey, doc, you got any pants for this guy?" Mereel asked. Mereel looked at Bly, "not that we're overly formal here at Kyrimorut, but we generally wear a bit more than our skivvies when we roam about the bastion."

Bly looked down at himself, and shrugged.

"Just the bodysuit he was wearing when he came in," Gil said, "and it's got strill blood, and some other holes in it. The commander has been a busy guy. I was going to ask Laseema if she could add it to the wash."

Gil nodded his head, indicating the partially-healed blaster wounds on Bly's chest and leg.

"I tried to repair the holes in my suit. I didn't mean to come with my kit in disrepair," Bly said, sounding truly sorry he'd arrived with his clothing in such a state.

"Relax, ARCie," Mereel said, "you're a brother. We're glad that you're here. Not dead, or with the Empire. Clothes? We'll get you some clothes."

"I should keep extra clothes here in the medical bay," Gil said, "another thing for the checklist. I'm going to keep a datapad on me at all times, like Ordo, if my list keeps growing like this."

"You can grab some pants out of my room," Jaing called to Gil as he walking out. "I have a spare pair!"

"Or, my room!" Mereel shouted out, "he can have my spare pair!"

"Thanks, guys," Bly said, impressed with how hospitable the Nulls were. He'd been led to believe the Nulls were somewhat psychotic. But, in reality, Skirata's sons were confident, amiable, and generous of heart. These traits seemed to come from both their relationships with each other, and from their father.

Jaing and Mereel both took a moment to check out Bly's chest and leg blaster wounds.

"I'm impressed," Jaing declared, without mockery.

"Me, too," said Mereel.

"How many times were you shot again?" Jaing asked.

"Four," Bly answered, calmly, with neither bragging, nor any kind of trauma or avarice in his tone. He could have been discussing the weather, "twice in the same arm."

"And, you not only survived that, you were wandering around the woods of Mandalore just a week later," Jaing said,

"Force, that's impressive," Mereel said, shaking his head, "four times! what did that feel like?"

"Did all the shots hit at once, or were they one right after another, like—" Jaing acted out the sound of four blaster shots.

Jaing and Mereel were fascinated now by the topic of getting blaster shot four times at once. Bly seemed only too happy to enlighten them on the gory details of the process.

Bly launched into a retelling to his eager audience, gesturing toward his bandaged arm as he told the tale, "Well, the shots to my arm and shoulder hit about the same time, because they sort of melded together. But, the other two-"

"Clones," Aayla muttered, shaking her head, "can't believe we're discussing _this_."

"Hey," Mereel blurted out defensively, overhearing her, "I've heard the Jedi do some pretty weird stuff for fun, so-"

He stopped. A heavy silence instantly descended over the room. The light mood instantly vanished. Bly heard Aayla suck in her breath. He knew she was trying to get a hold of her emotions. He wanted to go to her, and make sure she was OK. But, he couldn't walk on his own, and he was being held up by Jaing and Mereel.

Surprisingly, it was Aayla who broke the awkward silence. "Mereel, the Jedi, we, uh, yeah," she swallowed heavily, and everyone could feel the pain of that awful day of Order 66 in her voice, when all the other Jedi ceased to exist, "yeah, we ah," she paused, and had to start again, taking a deep breath to squelch tears, "yes, we were a funny bunch sometimes, especially when it came to fun. So, uh, yeah, you're right."

Mereel cocked his head to the side, and a look passed between them— a look of respect for each other's unique backgrounds and upbringings, "General, maybe you could tell me about it, sometime," Mereel said, in a quiet, even, respectful tone.

Aayla nodded, "I'd like that, Mereel, thanks. And, thanks, for helping Bly."

Mereel smiled a bit shyly: "Well, we all feel bad about him getting bit by Mird. And… well, I'm the one who tackled him. I had no idea he was injured and all." Mereel looked at all Bly's injuries again. "You actually put up a wicked good fight, Bly, for someone with this many holes in him."

"Thanks," Bly said, "I think. I want a rematch once I'm not poisoned and full of holes."

"You're on!" Mereel said, enthusiastically.

Bly smiled, obviously relishing the thought of a good fight with a worthy opponent. Gil walked back in, carrying a pair of Republic-issue fatigues. Mereel and Jaing supported Bly while Gil slid the pants on.

Gil handed the shirt off to Aayla, "I won't bother putting this on him now, as it will be hard to get on over the bandages and stuff. But, in case he wants it later."

Gil slid a pair of slippers on Bly's feet, "Thought these would be easier than trying to get your combat boots on at the moment. They're mine, so you can just give them back when you're done with them, OK? Once you're better, we'll work on getting you some clothes of your own. Maybe a shopping trip to Keldabe in the future, OK, son?"

"A shopping trip?" Bly repeated, looking at Gil in confusion.

"Yes, to get you clothes of your own, and shoes. Maybe you'll want a little something to decorate your room," Gil suggested.

"And, armor," Jaing put in, "we need to order you a real set of Mando'a beska'gem." Jaing thumped his chest against the armor he wore. Aayla had noticed the men in the bastion wore armor, minus the helmets, at all times. This had not seemed overly strange to her, since she was accustomed to being around armored men all the time. However, when compared to how people lived on Coruscant, it was a bit unusual.

Bly still looked confused, and a bit nervous at the prospect of having to go shopping, "I don't have any practical field experience in shopping. I didn't have any training in this area."

Rather than laugh at his very military phrasing of common civilian activity, Mereel and Jaing just nodded solemnly.

"Yeah, not something you do a lot of when you're part of a slave army that doesn't get paid," Jaing muttered darkly. His comment wasn't directed at anyone in particular, but you could hear the three years of built-up resentment in his tone. An awkward silence descended upon the room again. Aayla suddenly felt the heavy burden of "Jedi vs. clone" again.

Aayla decided the best way to handle the issue would be head-on, "Look, Jaing, if there was any other way, I'm sure the Jedi Council would not have-"

"Forget it," Jaing cut her off, "it doesn't matter anymore now, right?"

Gil cut in, effectively ending the discussion, "So, commander, those shoes fit, OK?"

"Uh, yeah, doc, they're a bit tight, but they'll do just fine. Thanks for everything," Bly wished he could just keep on borrowing these shoes, so he wouldn't have to face the frightening prospect of shopping. "You've all been really nice to me, so thank you, for everything," the borrowed footwear felt warm, light and comfortable on his feet. Since Bly only had the use of one hand, it would be a lot easier getting slippers on and off than armored combat boots.

"Alright, let's move it," Gil said. He wanted to get their little caravan started before Aayla, Jaing and Mereel could get into a heated morale debate again. Gil nodded to Aayla to lead the way. Jaing and Mereel followed, supporting Bly. Bly had an easy enough time at first, with the strength of Jaing and Mereel taking on so much of his body weight. He just had to keep moving his feet. But, after a couple of minutes of walking, he felt himself quickly detiorating. It wasn't walking that was so much a problem, but the severe bouts of dizziness. Bly had to start closing his eyes, as the vertigo and nausea worsened. He began to focus on just keeping his feet moving, so that he didn't get dragged by Jaing and Mereel. He had no idea where they were headed. All of his being was just centered on keeping his feet going, and not throwing up on Jaing and Mereel. They stopped at one point, but it took Bly a while to even register that they'd stopped.

"You OK, son?"

_Huh? Whuh? _It took Bly a long moment to realize someone was speaking to him.

"Commander Bly?"

Bly opened his eyes, and then immediately regretted it, as everything started spinning wildly. He felt himself veering off to one side, and felt Jaing (or, was it Mereel?) shift their body weight to compensate.

The vertigo was so severe it was now causing a severe, stabbing migraine. It felt like there were ice picks being jabbed into the occipital region of his skull.

"Doc?" Bly heard Mereel, (or was it Jaing?), ask Gil for guidance about how to proceed. "Should we take him back to the medical bay?"

Bly forced his eyes open again, "No," he hissed out between his teeth, "I'm- okay."

Gil appeared right in front of him, looked into his eyes, and then checked his pulse, "Son, I would not say you were alright. But, at this point you just need to lie down. Since you're closer to the General's-," Gil stopped and corrected himself, "you and your wife's quarters, well, you can lie down there, just as well as you can in the medical bay. Come on, let's keep moving."

They started moving again, more quickly. Bly gave up trying to hold in his groans from the icepick migraine. He felt Aayla reach out and nudge his mind. She did something that eased some of the pain from the migraine. Bly didn't know how she did it, but the pain dropped down somewhat, and became easier to bear.

Bly kept his body moving forward, using the mental mindset that he was on the battlefield. He had to keep moving. He called upon the extra reserves in his body. Aayla looked over at Bly worriedly. He looked awful. She could feel his exhaustion and physical pain through their mental link, and everything in her wanted to do something to stop his pain. She also just wanted to lift him and carry him like she'd done on the ship. But, his brothers were around now. So, she understood that the men around here didn't want to get carried around by their wives.

Seeing Bly being carried like this brought back a rush of memories of the many battles they'd fought together. For the most part, Bly did an excellent job of both taking down the enemy and keeping himself from being taken out. But, there were those times when there was just no cover to be found. Aayla remembered the panic she always felt when she saw Bly being carried off the battlefield by his brothers, too injured to walk on his own. Even if she was still fighting, she'd reach out with her Force senses just to reassure herself he was still alive.

Well, he'd have to be, since clones didn't usually have an opportunity to collect the dead. (Something that always bothered her, but the topic was always shot down when she tried to raise it with the Jedi Council.)

Aayla focused back on finding her way through the twisting corridors and back to her quarters. _How big was this place anyway?_ From what she'd learned, Kal had the place custom-built, and it was still new. Parts of it were still being finished off. Aayla glanced over at Bly again, carried by his brothers. She began to appreciate again, Kal's vision- a safe haven for clone brothers.

Clones. She didn't even like to use that term anymore. As she walked down the hallway with Fi, Jaing, Mereel and Bly, the four of them were as unique and different individuals to her as the doctor, or herself. How had she ever even regarded "the clones" as a single entity? Even after only less than a day here, it was easy to tell Skirata's sons apart. They were all so _different_, despite the obvious similarities.

Something in the back of her mind tapped at her. _This is it._ She looked, and right in front of her, were her quarters. Well, thankfully, part of her brain had been paying attention, before she dragged Bly and his brothers all over the bastion.

"We're here," she said loudly, halting before the door. She entered the room, and made a gesture bidding the others to come inside. She'd made the bed neatly before she'd left in the morning. So, she peeled the sheets back now. She felt a bit odd doing so, with all these men in her room, all these _attractive_ men in her room. She just reminded herself she was a married woman now, so things were different. Jaing and Mereel lowered Bly down onto the bed. Bly tried to stifle a groan as he was repositioned into the bed, but didn't quite succeed. He had his eyes closed, and lay completely still after they got him settled. They left his pants on, and just tugged off his slippers. Aayla pulled the sheets back up over him. Gil immediately began checking his vitals again.

Jaing took a step back, and studied him critically, "Uh, doc? He doesn't look that good."

# # #


	31. Chapter 31 They can't stay

**A/N: Hey, another chapter already. Yeah, me! And, this is probably my busiest two weeks of the year. The doctor's name is Gil, so you'll see "doc" and "Gil" used interchangeably. (These are all Karen Traviss, characters.)**

**More Than Just A Clone**

**Chapter 31**

Mereel crossed his arms, as he looked at him, thoughtfully, "Yeah. He is looking kind of pale."

Jaing shook his head, "No. I'd say it's more of a yellowish-green."

Mereel cocked his head to the side, "Oh, yes, I see it now."

"I think he's going to hurl," Jaing said. Mereel bobbed his head with agreement, as if he'd had a lot of experience with upchucking.

"Oh, yes, most definitely. I think he's gonna' blow," Mereel said.

"Should we get him a bucket or something?" Jaing asked, helpfully.

"He's OK, actually," Gil said, straightening up, after his examination, "still just suffering the effects of the strill poisoning. He's just exhausted from the exertion of walking across the bastion."

Gil looked at Aayla, "Make sure he stays in bed the rest of the day."

Jaing whispered something to Mereel after the "make sure he stays in bed" comment. Gil shot them a look of annoyance, but continued on with his instructions to Aayla, "He can get up to use the refresher, but other than that, strictly bed rest, understood?" Aayla nodded. "We'll have food sent down for the two of you."

Gil put a hand on Bly's arm, "You hear me, son? It's going to be a couple more days until all this toxin works its' way out of your system. You need to stay in bed until it does. There's no getting around that. Understood?"

"Yeah, OK," Bly said, quietly, his eyes still closed.

Aayla looked over at him, surprised. She hadn't even realized he was still conscious.

"OK, I'll leave you two alone," Gil said, getting up and heading toward the door.

Jaing and Mereel stayed behind, "to spend some time together," the doctor hinted.

Jaing and Mereel still remained, clueless as to what the doctor was hinting at.

"Jaing! Mereel!" Gil hissed. Gil made an impatient gesture from the doorway, hooking his thumb toward the hallway.

"Are you kicking us out?" Mereel asked, looking surprised.

Gil let out a greatly exasperated breath, "Yes! Back to what you were doing, before I called. Thanks for helping! Go, now!"

Mereel shrugged, and headed for the door.

"We were just leaving anyway," Jaing quipped, as he followed Mereel out.

Mereel poked his head back into the doorway, "Have fun, ARCie!"

Aayla saw Gil's hand grab Mereel's shoulder and pull him away. Aayla laughed softly.

"Are they gone?" Bly asked quietly, from the bed, eyes still closed.

"Yes," Aayla said, sliding over to sit on the bed next to him with a gentle smile, "finally." Bly smiled, and said fondly, "di'kuts." [Idiots.]

Bly patted the spot on the bed directly next to him with his good hand. Without hesitation, Aayla tugged off her soft leather Jedi boots, and slid under the sheets next to Bly. She curled up into his side, and within moments, they were both asleep.

# # #

"How are our new guests doing?" Kal asked, as he supervised the loading of supplies onto the ship.

"Atin said Laseema brought a food tray down to them around lunch time. They were both fast asleep. She just left the tray so they could have it later. She commented that they both looked rather peaceful when they were sleeping together like that," Ordo commented, in his matter-of-fact, not looking up from where he was ticking things off on his datapad.

Kal "huumphed" thoughtfully.

"What?" Ordo said, stopping what he was doing, to look at his father. Ordo was always instantly concerned where his father was concerned.

"Nothing, son," Kal said, shaking his head, "just a bit weird having another Jedi in our midst so soon again. That's all."

Ordo put a bracing hand on Kal's shoulder, "You OK, buir? You sure you want to go on this mission? Me and the others, we can-"

Kal's eyes flew up to Ordo's, "No! I'm not letting my boys fly off alone into the dangerzone, just because I'm a sentimental old fool who can't get a grip on his grieving. No, we're all doing this mission together, because we're strongest when we work together as a team."

"OK, buir," Ordo said, with a shrug, "I trust you."

And, Kal knew he did, with his life, they all did, and that's what made it so terrifying.

Kal put his hands behind his back, and rocked back and forth on his heels restlessly as he watched the preparations proceeding. He'd grab the crates and help load them himself, but knew his sons could accomplish it a lot faster and more easily than he could. Kal began drumming his fingers restlessly against the sides of his armor.

Ordo glanced over at his father out of the corner of his eye, as he continued to tick things off on his checklist.

"OK, out with it," Ordo said, signaling to his brothers to take a break from loading. He tucked the datapad into a pouch on his belt, and sat down on a nearby crate, "so, what's really bothering you?" He patted the spot on the crate right next to him, so he and his father could sit side-by-side. There weren't many opportunities for private conversation at Kyrimorut, since they lived as a commune. But, this allowed them a shared, quiet moment.

"Is it a little weird having them here, or is it just me?" Kal asked so softly that Ordo had to strain to hear him.

Ordo raised his eyebrows as he studied his father: "Commander Bly and General Secura?"

Kal nodded, looking intently at Ordo. Kal loved all his sons, but he'd always had a special place in his heart for Ordo. From the moment he'd first met the Nulls, when the boys were barely two-years old, Ordo had emerged as the leader of the Nulls. Ordo had stood in front of his brothers, protecting them from the Kaminoans with a stolen blaster. The Kaminoans had wanted to put the Nulls to death, having judged them as defective, and Ordo had thrown his body in front of his brothers to protect them. At that moment, Kal's life had changed. Seeing Ordo's brave, selfless act had thrown a switch somewhere in Kal's brain.

"For an ARC, Bly is actually a pretty good guy," Ordo admitted, "and, as far as Jedi go, the General seems a decent enough sort. You thinking we should get rid of them?"

Kal sighed heavily, "That's just the problem, son. If they were both wholly unlikable, it would be so easy to want to get rid of them. It's only been a day, and they're already starting to fit in like they belong here. But, we've got Kad to think about. Another Jedi presence here places Darman's son at risk. The fact that they even found us at all demonstrates how easily these Jedi can sense one another, even with Jusik trying to mask Kad's presence."

"OK, then," Ordo said, putting a comforting hand on his father's shoulder, "we'll ask them to leave. As soon as Bly is well enough to travel, they must go. We can probably have them out of here inside of a week, maybe ten days, if we hurry things up with the bacta tank."

Kal sighed miserably, shaking his head.

"What?" Ordo asked, looking puzzled. Kal took a deep breath, obviously trying to steady himself before speaking again. Ordo waited patiently.

"Where will they go?" Kal finally asked.

"Not our problem," Ordo said, confident in himself, as always.

"Son, a clone deserter, and a Jedi. Where could they possibly go? We'd be likely sentencing them to a certain death. Both of them. Two more deaths on our hands," his voice hitched.

Ordo's eyes widened, as comprehension dawned, "This **is** about Darman, and Etain."

Kal opened his mouth to deny it, but then stopped, and simply nodded.

"This isn't going to bring Etain back," Ordo said quietly.

"I know, son," Kal said, quietly, "but sending them out to their deaths isn't going to honor her memory any either, is it?"

"So, you're thinking of letting them stay?" Ordo asked, incredulously.

"I'm thinking we need to give this a lot more thought," Kal said, "because I just don't have any answers right now. Does that make sense?"

Ordo nodded, placating his father. But, he wasn't sure he did understand. He'd talk it over later with his wife, Besany. Somehow all of this emotional stuff always made sense to her. Ordo figured made it was their age difference, or their different life experiences. It always seemed very black and white to Ordo. He was puzzled why all these extra layers of complication kept getting added in. He scowled, thinking another Jedi at Kyrimorut was a complication they just didn't need. Not now. Not after all they'd been through in the past week.

# # #


	32. Chapter 32 One Night

_Revised: July 30, 2013._

_A/N: * STEAM WARNING * Bly and Aayla finally get to have a proper honeymoon. So, understandably, this is a steamy chapter. Aw, heck, this whole story has been steamy. It's a love story. But, you could boil some tea in this one.  
_

_**More Than Just A Clone**_

**Chapter 32**

Bly woke up slowly, confused at first as to where he was. But, there was no mistaking the sexy body intertwined with his.

"Aayla," he murmured happily, scooting himself in just a little bit closer against her backside. He realized he didn't care where he was at the moment. The fact that he was wrapped up around Aayla was more than enough for him. The details could take care of themselves.

He'd woken up heavily aroused, as usual. The difference now was he could actually do something about it. He still couldn't believe Aayla was his, and he could make love to her like this freely whenever he wanted. He pressed himself hard up against her backside, wishing she wasn't dressed. She was wearing an attractive, well-fitting garment he'd never seen her wear before. He wondered where she'd gotten it. She had such a curvy figure that he didn't think she could borrow clothes from just anybody and have them fit so well. Then again, she was so beautiful he figured she would look great in the leftover packing material from a shipment of D-15s. He ran his fingers along the hemline of the garment, noting the colors suited her blue skin perfectly.

"Where'd you get this?" he asked, never having seen anything like it.

"Laseema," Aayla murmured, her voice still sleepy and now starting to sound a bit distracted as well.

He continued to follow the stitching of the garment around, trailing a light tantalizing line with his fingertips. He followed every line and stitch, around her sleeves, down her rib cage, and then slowly followed all the lines of decorative stitching around the breasts. Aayla let out a gentle sigh of pleasure.

"Remind me to thank her next time I see her," Bly's voice was a low throaty growl.

She opened her eyes just a slit, and looked out at him through heavily lidded eyes. She gave him a sexy smile which took his breath away as much as the revealing garment she was wearing.

"Aayla," Bly groaned, still overwhelmed at times at the effects she had on him. He puts his head down for a moment, and buried it in the crook of her arm. She stroked her fingers through his hair, relishing the softness against her fingertips.

It was a slow tender moment, and for once, they both felt as if time was on their side. He raised up his head again and continued his exploration of the sinfully beautiful garment she wearing. She allowed him to touch her freely. He continued to explore her reverently, tracing out each and and every stitch with his fingertips. He trailed his hands down her opposite ribcage, and followed the stitching down to her legs. He reached down as far as he could, without getting up, tracing the stitches along each of her hips. Aayla scooted up on the mattress, a willing participant, so he could reach her more easily. Bly chuckled, and continued with his light, gentle caresses. He trailed his fingers along the stitching between her legs. Aayla sucked in her breath, and then flipped over onto her back. Bly laughed, and then continued, tracing the lines of stitching than ran between her buttocks. He loved touching her like this, freely, slowly, and without inhibition. He finished with her buttocks, and then began trailing his fingers up her back. The garment had a low, generously scooped back. When Bly reached her exposed flesh, he gently raked her skin with his rough calloused fingers. Aayla moaned, and pressed her back up into his hand, demanding more.

Bly shifted his body so that he could deftly massage her back with his strong, dexterous fingers. Aayla sighed happily with pleasure, sinking deeper into the pillow.

After several long moments of this, Bly peered down at her, "You better not be falling asleep on me. We are _not_ done here."

"Less talking. More massaging," Aayla sighed happily, pushing her back up into his hand again.

Bly shook his head and continued to work out the knots. But, he was too heavily aroused to be content with just touching her back. He worked all the tense muscles out of her spine, and then his hands began to wander to more interesting areas. He trailed his hand around to slip inside her top.

"Yes," he groaned happily, "I can't tell you how long I wanted to do this."

"You and the rest of the 327th Star Corps," Aayla laughed, rolling her eyes, "I can read minds, you know."

Bly frowned, not sure he liked the thought of the entire Legion having lewd thoughts about _his_ General. It was one thing when _he_ was doing, but knowing that everyone else was also lusting after Aayla was-

Seeing that his thoughts were turning dark, Aayla immediately moved in to distract him. "It is not an unusual thing for a Twi'lek to be thought after in such a manner. I have dealt with it all my life."

Bly was not placated, "I still don't like it."

Seeing that words were useless, Aayla decided to go for more direct means of distraction. She reached down and immediately unhooked her pants, sliding them off of her hips. Naked from the waist down, she pressed her body tightly up against Bly's erection and pulled him in for a full sensual kiss.

Bly immediately gave up all attempts at speaking and ground himself against her with satisfaction, pleased that there were less layers of clothing between them now. He reached one hand back to cup her naked buttocks, and keep her pulled tight up against him. Aayla resumed kissing him, as she ground her body up against his. Bly could feel she was getting just as much pleasure from this grinding as he was. Her sensitive female nub was rubbing up against the heavy duty cloth just the right way.

Bly's hand wandered under her sensual garment again, reaching for her breasts. Aayla took the hint, knowing Bly was anxious to have her completely naked. She undid the fasteners that held together the tight-fitting garment. Bly instantly swarmed in with his hands, running his hands over her breasts.

"You're absolutely beautiful," Bly murmured to her, as he caressed her. Aayla's eyes met his, and she could see the sincerity of his words. Bly truly was enraptured with her, and his Force signature radiated both his passion and his sincerity. Aayla found this combination to be absolutely irresistible, and her body cried out for Bly. Even just one night away from him was enough to make her crave his touch again.

She reached her hands down into Bly's pants and pulled him free, stroking his stiff, heavy shaft. He was already so engorged, and ready for her. She ran her fingertips lightly up and down his length.

Bly groaned at her touch. Aayla continued to explore him, one hand inside his army fatigues. She was amazed at how much power she held over him, simply by touching him. But, then again, his fingertips did the same thing to her.

She circled her fingers around his tip, and felt his entire body shiver in response. A small drop of wetness squeezed out of him. Aayla circled her fingertips in the droplet, and continued to rub circles on his tip. "Aayla!" Bly gasped, his entire body shivering in response.

Without undressing him any further, Aayla pulled him completely free so that his entire length was in her hand. She ran both her hands up and down his shaft, stroking him.

Bly positioned his hands on top of hers, and showed her exactly how he liked to be touched. She was a fast learner. Bly's breath hitched, and as he stared at Aayla, while she stroked him. He still couldn't believe that this gorgeous woman was his wife. He reached his hand up, teasing and stroking her breasts, and then reaching down to touch her between her legs. As he teased her body, she increased her pace of stroking him. He practically came off the bed with the waves of pleasure rolling through him.

"Aayla," he warned, gasping out her name. She nodded in understanding, knowing he couldn't hold back much longer. He could see the desire in her heavily lidded eyes. Aayla repositioned her body, sitting up on top of him. Bly's eyes widened as she sat down on top of his shaft.

Bly gasped in surprise, and then moaned in pleasure. He was still dressed, in the borrowed pair of pants, clothed, except for his naked shaft emerging out from the crotch panel. The erotic contradiction of being both clothed and naked at the same time, and feeling Aayla brushing up against the cloth, was almost too much to take.

"$#! Aayla!" Bly gasped out, reaching his hands up to grasp her hips.

Aayla laughed, and reached a hand down and put it over his mouth, "Bly! We are going to clean up that mouth of yours!"

Bly looked up at her breasts longingly, "I could think of something else I could put in my mouth instead-"

Aayla laughed again, shaking her head. She leaned down and kissed him instead.

"You're going to kiss me everytime I curse?" Bly whispered huskily, a sly smile on his face.

Aayla didn't answer, just leaned down to kiss him again.

"And, this is supposed to _deter_ me from cursing?" Bly asked, his voice thickened with desire.

Aayla begin to ride his shaft, moving up and down on its' slick length. Bly couldn't speak anymore after that. Aayla felt herself quickly reaching her peak, a result of too much pent-up sexual passion. Unwilling for it to end so soon, she stopped. She held herself there, and let things calm down. Bly's eyes had closed. When she stopped, he peeked just eye open and looked at her questioningly. She reached out, making a mental connection to Bly, just as she'd done on the ship. The mental question felt amazing. Her bold moves in undressing and riding him had greatly excited him. She loved feeling his passion. She lay her head down on his chest, exploring his sensation, and sharing her own. Still naked, and still connected in the most intimate manner possible, they allowed themselves a moment of rest. Then, Aayla leaned forward, and captured Bly's mouth in a sensual kiss that continued on with the kiss they'd started in medbay. Except this time, she pressed her tongue between his lips, and she _really_ kissed him. Their tongues locked and dualed, kissing each other breathless. As the kiss heated up and grew more and more passionate, their bodies naturally started moving again. The pace of their lovemaking began to pick up, becoming more and more frenetic. Aayla couldn't believe how long they were both lasting. She could feel her climax building, and knew it was going to be huge since they had managed to delay it for so long. Connected as she was to Bly through their link, she could feel his climax building as well. She continued to kiss him breathless as their bodies moved against each other. When their climax finally hit, they both cried out together. Their bodies shook from the intensity of it. Aayla held onto Bly, feeling the waves of pleasure grip her. She grabbed onto Bly. Bly followed her, his hands gripping her hips tightly as his body finally released itself into Aayla. He ground his pelvis up against her, crying out her name hoarsely, and loudly, not caring who might be in earshot. He'd held his breath as he released, so when it was over, he was gasping for air. Aayla collapsed against his chest. She could feel how rapidly her heart was pounding, and could feel the fast pace of his heartbeat under her fingertips. She was worried at first that perhaps the exertion might have been too much for Bly with all he'd been through. It sounded like he was having difficulties breathing. But, when she lifted her head up from Bly's chest, and peered at his face, he was smiling down at her.

"Wow," Bly said quietly, his shiny black hair beaded with small drops of sweat. He gave Aayla a lazy, charming smile and ran one hand idly down her lekku. He gave her a look bordering on wonderment, "_that_ was amazing."

She smiled tiredly up at him, "OK, we are definitely doing that again."

"Agreed," Bly said, as he began to stroke her back again, his voice was hushed and with a tone that bordered on reverence, "and thank you."

# # #

_A/N: A nice moment for Bly and Aayla before our brave Jedi heads out on her big mission... (sense of foreboding...)_


	33. Chapter 33 The Mission

**"More Than Just A Clone"**

**Chapter 33**

"Hey, Bly, I'm going," Aayla leaned down and gave her still slumbering husband a gentle brush of a kiss on the cheek.

"Wha..." Bly blinked groggily, taking longer than usual to come awake.

Aayla chuckled and kissed him again, this time on the forehead. "Stay in bed. Rest some more. You're still exhausted. I think I wore you out last night. It's only 0400. I need to meet the others. Skirata insisted we get an early start on this thing."

The reminder of the mission snapped Bly to instant wakefulness. He pushed himself up on his good elbow and stared pointedly at Aayla, "I'm going with you."

Aayla blinked, "What? No. Bly, we've been through this. You can't. You have to stay behind this time-"

Bly rolled his eyes impatiently, placing a finger on her lips to silence her. "I meant to the landing pad. Come on, help me get dressed." Over the past week, he'd learned to swallow his pride and accept help from Aayla with the basic tasks that were difficult for him to do with his many injuries. And, he had to admit that there were times that he actually enjoyed accepting help from his former General. She took the tasks so seriously and so often getting him dressed and undressed led to... other things.

But, this morning there was no playfulness or flirtation as Aayla helped him quickly don a pair of fatigues and a loose fitting shirt.

"Are you sure about this?" Aayla said, although from her tone it sounded like she knew she wouldn't be able to talk him out of coming. "Last time you tried to walk across the bastion you almost threw up from exhaustion."

"I'll be fine. I'm much stronger," Bly insisted, "help me with my boots." His statement would have sounded a lot more convincing if he could have said it and put his own footwear on. Nevertheless, he couldn't just lay around in bed knowing Aayla was leaving. He at least had to see her off. The whole situation was driving him mad at it was. It was his job to have her back.

"Bly, stop worrying," Aayla soothed, as she knelt down by his feet and quickly pulled on one boot and then the other. "The Nulls are some of the most highly trained clones in the galaxy. I couldn't ask for better clones to be my side for this mission."

Unless it was me, Bly grumbled to himself, it should be me.

"You're projecting your thoughts," Aayla whispered quietly, coming up on her knees, and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I heard that."

"What if something goes wrong?" Bly responded, his voice equally soft, nibbling on her lips for a moment, before rubbing his forehead against hers, "I won't be there."

"Nothing is going to go wrong," Aayla said with conviction, "what could go wrong?"

Bly shook his head, trying to ignore the roiling in his gut that said everything. He had a very bad feeling about this mission.

They walked quietly through the bastion holding hands, not saying at all, just enjoying each other's company for a few final moments. All too soon they arrived out on the landing pad. The walk to their room had seemed so long before when Bly had been struggling on his feet. Now, the distance seemed far too short when they didn't want to be separated from each other.

"Time to go," Skirata said curtly, looking at his chrono, "get onboard."

Aayla gave Bly one quick last lingering kiss and then disappeared up the ramp. And, then she was gone.

As Bly watched the ship blast off into the sky he felt like his stomach had dropped out on him. He stayed there at the landing pad until long after the sun came up just staring off into the sky.

As the sun warmed the back of his neck, he heard Fi's familiar voice, "Fek! _There_ you are. I came to your room to bring you breakfast and you were totally AWOL. Gil and I were about to send out search parties for you."

Bly turned and looked at his fellow clone and some of his devastation must have shown on his face. Fi's brown eyes immediately softened and he threw an arm around Bly's uninjured shoulder. "Come on. Laseema has cooked a huge breakfast and expects the two of us to eat it all. We best get started."

# # #

_Author's Note: I was going to wait until "Whatever Happened to Captain Rex?" was done to update this story, but I've been feeling creative lately and have been writing all the time. (Maybe it's the fact that I've been jetlagged and awake at all hours.) Anyway, I've been updating the early chapters of this story, and adding new ones. I have several new chapters to post after this one which I will post in the next couple of days._


	34. Chapter 34 Nothing

**"More Than Just a Clone"**

**Chapter 34**

"More caf?" Laseema offered.

Bly shook his head and slid his good hand over the top of his durasteel mug. He'd refused the last two times, but Mando hospitality seemed to know no bounds.

"More Tiingiliar?" the Twi'lek asked, preparing to heap more of the spicy vegetable and meat mixture onto Bly's plate. He shook his head and put up a hand, trying to refuse politely. He knew his social skills were not the best. He had little practice at these situations and knew he was not good at the nuances and complexities outside of a mess hall.

"You sure?" Fi said, "Laseema's Tiingiliar's the best."

Bly shook his head again. His appetite was not back to what it had been before Felucia, and his nasal passages were burning from the pungent aromas and intense flavors of Mandalorian cuisine.

"Come eat with us, Laseema," Fi said. He stood up and took the serving plate out of the Twi'lek's hands. Fi pulled out a chair next to him and made a gracious gesture with his hands, indicating she should sit. Bly wondered when his brother had learned to be so smooth with women. Definitely not something they'd been taught on Kamino. He'd obviously picked up some tricks from exposure to Skirata and his Nulls.

"You work too hard," Fi continued on. "Now that the others are away, get out of the shabla kitchen. I still don't get why you were stuck in there in the first place. You're the only Twi'ilek I know that can cut someone's gett'se off."

"I know another," Bly mumbled under his breath, pushing the remains of his meal around on his plate. He gave up on eating and turned away to stare out the window. He quickly became lost in thoughts of Aayla. Bly's fingers idly traced the scar that ran at angle over his left eye. The motion was strangely self-soothing, as he remembered how much liked Aayla running her fingers there. He tuned out the conversation between Fi and Laseema. After several minutes, he felt a hand on his shoulder break him out of his reverie. He startled and stared up in the face of Fi. "Come on, we're on kitchen detail. Laseema deserves time off from all this osik. She has enough other duties around here."

Bly blinked and tried to focus on Fi's words.

_Laseema. Duties. Kitchen Detail._

He nodded and stood up, thinking through what Fi had just said. He wondered if Laseema's duties included caring for a child. He had the impression there was a youngling somewhere in the bastion. He thought he'd heard the voice of a child. But, no one had made mentioned of this mysterious little one to him. He was quickly learning that in the post Order 66 world, things were _different_. Whereas before he would ask questions and learn all he could about a new situation, now it just seemed better to stay silent and bide his time. He needed to get his arm healed and find someplace where he was sure that Aayla was safe.

Bly started picking up as many of the dirtied durasteel plates as he could with his hand. He was grateful that his brother hadn't automatically excluded him from helping out because of his injury. The last thing he wanted was to be treated like an invalid. But, Fi probably understood that better than anyone.

Fi stood up and started stacking plates and cups with ease. "It's not difficult. I wasn't much good the first time I helped in the kitchen."

Laseema took a bite of a sweet pastry, her movements so graceful and reminiscent of Aayla that it made Bly's throat clench painfully. He looked away and turned his attention back to the plates he was precariously balancing with his one arm.

The Twi'lek said to Fi laughingly, "That's an understatement. I thought you were going to _destroy_ the place."

The former Omega Squad member looked affronted, but stepped over to Laseema's side so he could place a fond kiss on her cheek. "Be kind. I wasn't _that_ bad."

Laseema laughed again, the sound light-hearted and genuine as her lips circled over the edge of her caf cup, draining the last bits. "Oh, you were. Trust me. But, your clean-up efforts were no worse than Atin's attempts at cooking." She wrinkled her face in disgust at the memory.

Fi returned her smile with genuine affection. He set down the dishes he so easily stacked up, and refilled her caf cup from a carafe on the table. "That _was_ a disaster," he agreed with a laugh, handing her back the filled caf cup.

Bly just wanted to get out of there and retreat to the kitchen. He'd had enough socializing. "Uh... thank you for the meal." He turned to back away.

The Twi'lek's melodic voice drew him back. "Glad that you are here, Bly." She rose from the table, and walked over to him. She reached around him, careful of his injured arm and the dishes he was carrying. She gave him a chaste, gentle hug. He stood there stiffly, not sure how to react to the gesture of affection. The Twi'lek pulled back slightly to ask, "I gave Aayla some clothing. Did it fit? She's built different from me. More muscle. Less fat." She laughed again, the sound seemed to surrounded Bly and he just wanted to get away. It was all too much.

No one could deny that Laseema was charming. But, that was the problem. Holding another Twi'lek woman in his arms was just too much. He let out a choked sound and pulled free from Laseema's grasp.

And, the last thing he wanted was a reminder of the clothing Aayla had worn on their last night together. He was sure his wife had probably been given several articles to wear, but all he could remember was lace and skin and string and the smell of her skin and the taste... He tried to force a neutral expression to his face, but the reminder of Aayla and their night of passion hit him like a blasterbolt to the gut.

Bly gulped. "The clothing was... adequate," he said stiffly and beat a hasty retreat for the kitchen. He was sure that his response was lacking. But, he had no idea how to handle these situations. He was good at battle and leading troops. He was a fekkin' clone marshal commander.

No. He wasn't.

He _had_ been.

He wasn't anything anymore.

So, what was he then?

He was the clone- the man- who'd given up everything for Aayla.

_Fek. What if she dies? What if she doesn't come back? What if she dies because you aren't there to watch her back?_

As he continued to clean, he could feel he was tiring and his arm started aching. He could feel himself growing irritable and his thoughts grew more random.

_What if she left because she's having second thoughts... What can I offer Ayala? I have no job. No future._

_Nothing._

The word kept running through Bly's head haunting him.

The entire time he and Fi were on clean-up detail, he remained silent despite his brother's repeated attempts to engage him in conversation. Bly sprayed the counters one-handed with a special cleaner Fi said had been formulated by Jaing. Fi gave him all the easy duties in the kitchen out of deference to his arm. The former commando had kept up a steady stream of conversation the entire time they'd been in the kitchen. There hadn't been any need for Bly to talk. Fi could talk enough for the two of them. He focused on wiping down every surface in the large kitchen, completely ignoring Fi as he went about his cleaning.

"Alright, I'm done over here," Fi said, closing up the sanitizer.

Bly inspected the kitchen with a critical eye, making sure they hadn't missed anything. He gave a nod of satisfaction. The place sparkled like a bunch of shinies had just gone through with a fine bristled brush. He turned to leave, determined to just make his way back to his room. His plan of attack was to hide in his assigned quarters for the rest of the duration of the day cycle. Or, maybe just stay there until Aayla returned back from her mission.

_If she comes back..._

He probably still had a ration bar or two tucked away. He could just stay in his room. He didn't need to see anyone. This was too fekkin' hard.

"Wait," Fi said, grabbing him by the good arm and spinning him around.

Bly growled at the delay and assumed a combative stance.

"Whoa," Fi said, putting his hands up. "What's with you?"

"Nothing," Bly hissed, a part of him aware that he was unfairly taking his temper out on his brother. "Leave me alone."

Fi raised up an eyebrow.

Bly took a deep breath, trying to get his temper under control. "Look, Fi, I just want to be alone right now, alright?" Fi studied him intently, with the way only one brother could read another brother. He made a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat after a long moment of perusal, then nodded. "I'll come check on you later. Can you find your way back to your room?"

Bly nodded, not at all sure that he did know his way around the bastion. But, he had to get out of there. He left the kitchen as quickly as he could, feeling Fi's gaze follow him as he left.

# # #


	35. Chapter 35 Awakenings

_A/N: I received a request for a crossover between "Whatever Happened to Captain Rex?" and "More Than Just a Clone." This request is fulfilled in the second part of the chapter._

_# # #_

Bly had no intention of leaving his room. He would stay entrenched in place until Aayla returned. He saw no reason to leave. He'd hardly slept. It had been his first night without Aayla, and he hadn't been able to find a comfortable position. The bed felt cold and empty.

It didn't help that his shoulder was throbbing. He wasn't sure if he could manage to get dressed on his own. Aayla had been assisting him up, and while he grumbled in her presence about needing help, he enjoyed her touch on him. She was a million times better than a fekkin' medical droid. Pleasant thoughts of her hands skimming down his body finally relaxed him to the point that he fell into a fitful sleep sometime around dawn.

Hours later, he startled awake to see Fi standing over him. Bly's soldier instincts flared to life, and he reached for a blaster at his hip that wasn't there.

"Fek," he groaned, trying to bring himself out of attack mode. "You trying to get shot?"

The former sniper gave a knowing smirk, telling Bly he knew exactly what he was doing. Fi's commando instincts were working just fine.

"Go away, Fi," Bly said, irritably.

"You didn't show up for breakfast. Laseema sent me down here with caf."

Bly smelled the pungent scent of the potent brew of caf the Mandalorians preferred to drink. He blinked one eye open and noticed Fi was waving a durasteel mug in front of his face. There wasn't just caf. Fi also had a plate of what looked like assorted sweet breads. Tempting. But, Bly held fast to his original plan. "I'm not getting up."

A moment later the sheet was expertly ripped off the bed. "Why are you sleeping in your clothes and boots?"

Bly made a rude snort, rolled over on his side as much as he was able with his damaged shoulder. It was an awkward clumsy move at best, but it was the only way he could ignore Fi.

The squad medic shook his head as he watched Bly. "Next time, _ask_ for help, di'kut."

"I don't _need_ help."

"Says the di'kut who slept with his boots on." Fi yanked away Bly's pillow, taking away the last bit of comfort he had on the bed. "Around here, we help each other." Fi's voice took on a firm command tone and he began barking orders. Bly wondered if he'd picked up _that_ tone from Skirata or one of the Nulls. "You're getting up _now_ lazy di'kut! Move it! You'll drink this fekkin' caf, and then haul your shebs into the shower. You _stink, _and you're _not_ staying in here all day."

The trooper part of Bly wouldn't allow him to resist such a tone. He felt a strong hand under his armpit as Fi forcibly hauled him up. He didn't resist, pulling himself up to a sitting position. He glared at Fi. "Fek, you're annoying."

"Get used to it. I'm all you have until the others return, unless you want Parja and Laseema. They won't be nearly as easy on you." He handed Bly the cup of caf.

Bly considered Fi's words, and decided he definitely didn't want to face the wrath of the Mando women. He accepted the drink as a peace offering between them.

Fi pointed a stabbing finger at Bly. "Ever since you arrived, the focus is finally off me. Everyone has stopped treating me like I'm going to break. It's a huge relief."

"Glad I could be of use," Bly grumbled, taking a long sip of the caf. Strong, hot and intensely bitter, the caf was hitting the spot. Fi seemed to sense he needed some time to wake up, and let him finish the beverage in silence. Bly handed the mug back, feeling considerably better. "So, what's so important you couldn't leave me alone?"

Fi handed Bly the tray of sweet breads, snagging one off the top for himself. "We need to go retrieve your ship and bring it under cover. The last thing we want to do is call attention to this location. Kal'buir and the others are still annoyed you managed to find us in the first place."

"Technically, we didn't find you," Bly pointed out taking a large bite of something sweet and nutty, "we were wandering aimlessly in the woods and that beast of Vau's hunted me down."

"You landed in the right region of Mandalore. It was damn close to dead-on," Fi made a grab for another sweetbread but Bly pulled the plate out of his reach. "We need to hide your ship before it gets noticed from above. We'll both drive out in the speeder, and then one of us needs to fly it back." He studied Bly's injured arm. "But, even if we didn't have to move the ship, I'd find something else for you to do. You need something to focus on or you'll go mad. Trust me. I've been there, too."

Bly gave Fi a considering look and then nodded. "Alright," Bly said, gazing out the window for a long moment as he thought it through. When he turned back, the last bread on his plate was gone and Fi gave him a smirk as he chewed. Bly was full anyway, but he still gave Fi a steely glare, knowing the former commando was _trying_ to get a rise out of him. Fi laughed, and licked his fingers as he finished the last bite. Despite what some said about him, Bly did have a decent sense of humor. And, Fi was right. The time would pass faster if he kept busy. "Give me a few minutes to shower and armor up." He frowned, as he thought through the logistics. "Eh... I'll... need help."

Fi's eyes twinkled with amusement, "It's painful _listening_ to you. Gah. Can't believe it's that hard for you to ask for help. I had two years of being forced to rely upon other people. Any stubborn pride I had left was lost long ago. Come on, di'kut, let's get you into the shower."

# # #

Fi had a way about him that put Bly at ease. If they were still at war, and ranks mattered, he likely would have taken offense that Fi kept referring to him as _di'kut_. But, here on Mandalore, all things were equal, and he guessed he'd earned the title.

Fi reminded him of his friend Catcher. Bly blew out a sigh as the hot water ran over him and relaxed his muscles. He hadn't allowed himself to think of his long dead friend for a while. Catcher had been a fellow ARC, and one of the best out there. He'd been Bly's closest friend, and assigned under his command. He was the type of vod you could always count on to watch your back.

And, then came Darkknell. Orders had come down from Republic Intelligence and Catcher had been sent alone on a week-long surveillance mission to a Separatist controlled planet. The mission reports were jumbled and incomplete. But, from what Bly was able to ascertain, something went wrong toward the end of the mission. Catcher had taken a blast shot to the spine. Bly had blazed in with the 327th and razed half a jungle to get Catcher out. And, despite all of Bly's protests, Catcher had been declared unsalvageable and sent to_ Kamino_. The agony of losing Catcher to reconditioning still burned in his gut.

Shortly after he'd lost Catcher, there'd been a protest in the Senate and the Republic had softened their policy toward injured clones. Badly injured clones were assigned admin assignments, usually back on Corrie. Bly often wondered what was worse; knowing Catcher had been killed before the policy change or constantly thinking how if he'd lived he would've hated being out of action for the rest of the war. Both thoughts pained Bly so much he finally had to stop thinking about Catcher. The thoughts roiled until he decided he'd cut himself off from friendships with other vode and act as a commander only. It hurt too much to get close.

"You've been in there four minutes already. That's a minute over a standard shower, di'kut," Fi called out, no malice in his tone as he again used the nickname he seemed to have adopted for Bly, "you coming out, or I am going to have to swim in there and get you?"

"Fine, alright, I'm done," Bly let his forehead sink against the tile, collecting himself. He gazed at the pattern on the tile, traditional black mythosaurs lightly etched in the top row, contrasting against a white-background. Tradition seemed to be everything here. He blew out a sigh, and reached out with his good hand to shut off the flow of water.

As he stepped out of the shower, Fi hopped gracefully off the sink and looked him up and down critically. "The rest of your injuries seem to be healing."

Bly shook his head, dispelling water droplets and withstood the medic's scrutiny. Like all clones, he didn't have body issues or concerns about nudity. It was one of the benefits of growing up with identical bodies.

"You having any pain from these other blast wounds?" Fi questioned, "Itching? Tingling? Tightness or pulling around the edges of the wound?

Bly shook his head, "No. Aayla knew what she was doing." He tried to ignore the pang he got when he thought of his wife, but he must have done a poor job of hiding is feelings.

Fi gave him a thoughtful look and then handed him a towel, "They'll be back soon enough, and with that bacta tank. It'll accelerate your healing."

Bly grunted, not wishing to discuss the mission since it just reminded him how he'd been left behind. He focused his energies on toweling off his chest, trying not to wince when he came into contact with areas still healing. He dried off as much as he could reach, and then tossed the towel back to Fi. Good enough. The rest would dry itself. He scrubbed a hand across his face, and then scowled. Aayla usually shaved him as he'd hadn't yet mastered the intricacies of performing the delicate task left-handed. Fett's training exercises hadn't included _that_ one.

Fi caught his look. "I'll help, di'kut. Stop scowling and sit."

Bly reached over and grabbed his personal care kit off the sink and tossed it to Fi. The items stashed on his belt had survived intact, undamaged by the blaster fire that had scorched and melted his armor. Bly found himself treasuring the few items he still had left. It felt like the only link he had to his former life.

"I've never done this for another brother," Fi said, with a chuckle of amusement, as he sprayed shav-gel on Bly.

"This is a first for me as well," Bly grumbled. He held still and and let Fi chatter on as he began methodically shaving him. His brother did an excellent job of it, having shaved the same face every day for years. But, this was another task that had been more enjoyable with Aayla's fingers playfully running across his skin. He tried to keep his thoughts from constantly straying to his wife because all it did was foul his mood.

Perfectly clean-shaven, Bly walked back into the sleeping room. He gathered up his armor, bodysuit, and clean boxers, pinned it against his body with his one hand, and carried the pile over to the bed. He laid the pieces out, and prepared to armor up. Fi studied his kit critically, noting the blast damage. "General Secura told us what happened. I'd like to hear your side of it."

The clone commander hesitated, attempting to pull on his black boxers. He still couldn't bend properly with his side wound. Fi slid the clothing out of his hands, and efficiently helped him into them. He wouldn't describe having Fi slide something up his hips as enjoyable, but it got the job done.

"Technically, she isn't a general anymore," Bly said, reaching for his bodysuit.

"I have no idea what else to call her. You and Jusik are probably the only ones comfortable enough to use her first name. Sometimes folks choose to call people by their ranks around here. It is a courtesy. Other times, it is more informal. It's Mandalore," Fi shrugged as if that alone was enough to explain everything. "We're going to need to get you a replacement for _that_." He frowned as he studied Bly's bodysuit.

"It'll do for now," Bly said, "it's mostly torn in the arm, and I can't wear my plates over this anyway." He nodded down toward the thick padding and bandage covering his injured arm.

Fi acquised, "Fine. For today. But, we're still getting you better kit. Not just your bodysuit. We'll have to do something about your armor, too."

Bly's jaw dropped. He was _not_ parting with his armor. It was damaged yes, but he would repair it. Fek. He had so little left.

Fi must have seen the look in his eyes, because he placed a hand on his good arm."We'll discuss later, OK?" He tugged the bodysuit of Bly's grasp. "Let me help you with this or we'll be here until dark." He began sliding Bly into the bodysuit with the ease of one who'd done the move many times. "So, you were telling me how you managed to do _this_ to your armor." Fi pointed again to the severe blast damage.

The ARC Commander sighed, and still didn't answer. He finished getting dressed with Fi's help, feeling stronger and more himself once he was back in his armor. He stood ramrod straight, as if he was at attention, and faced Fi. He took a deep breath and finally answering the question. "I intentionally disobeyed a direct order to protect Aayla. The directive came directly from the Chancellor. Disobeying orders went against everything I had been trained to do. Everything I thought I knew and that I was, changed in that split second."

He looked up and met Fi's gaze. There was no judgement or scorn in his brother's eyes.

Bly dragged out a heavy sigh and scrubbed the back of one hand across his face. "Three years of leading the 327th. I can only imagine what my men think of me. I'm a traitor to the Republic."

Fi gave him a long hard look. "The Republic doesn't exist anymore. It ceased to exist the moment the order went out. You didn't betray the Republic. You defied the Empire."

# # #

_Coming up in the next chapter: Aayla, the Nulls and Skirata are off on their mission. What could possibly go wrong?_


	36. Chapter 36 Behind Enemy Lines

The _Aay'han_ was an impressive ship. Cramped, but impressive. Aayla sat between A'den and Prudii, trying not to feel like an outsider in the forced intimacy of the ship.

Everyone had been polite, in a reserved, constrained sort of way. She could feel the different emotions swirling about the ship, much as she tried to block them. Skirata was uncertain about her, his whole being radiating mistrust. The feeling was echoed in every one of his boys, although they were better able to hide their emotions. Like most clones she'd met, they had a natural ability to shield themselves. With recent events, these skills made more sense. She refused to let her thoughts delve deeper. She couldn't afford to sink into an abyss of depression. Not now.

Aayla kept her eyes closed, pretending to sleep. She was exhausted and strangely energized after her night with Bly. Her lips curved into a smile, and she sensed someone staring at her. Skirata. His eyes narrowed as he studied her. She was going into the heart of enemy territory with a team that didn't trust her.

Skirata had Ordo on his right, and Jusik on his left. The former Jedi was asleep with his helmet resting on his lap. He looked at peace, and she wondered what he'd done to earn a place of trust. She wondered why she even cared. She sighed inwardly.

Bly.

That's why.

He'd become her entire existence now. Whereas before her entire existence revolved around her duties of being a Jedi, the way of life she knew was gone. Across the cabin, she felt a flinch back in the Force from Jusik as he picked up on her emotions. His eyes opened, and he gave a look of irritation. _'You must control yourself better. There are those out there seeking to destroy you.' _

Aayla scowled. _'Don't you mean us, Bardan? Destroy us?'_

'_I gave up that way of life. I am no longer a Jedi.'_

_'The Empire will not exclude you because you left before the purge. They seek to wipe out any trace of Force users in the galaxy.'_

_'How can you be so sure?'_

_'I had a vision. On my journey to Mandalore.' _

_'Show me.'_

With a reluctant shudder, Aayla shared the cold memory of the two eerie figures reaching out of the blackness.

'_You are correct_,' Jusik said after a long moment, '_They are tapping into the Dark Side to track down Force users. We must be careful of how much of how much presence we broadcast into the Force._'

Communicating as they were now came as natural to mature Jedi as speaking aloud. It required little effort and barely tapped their powers. However, trying to contact a fellow Jedi over a great distance, such as in another star system, was different. It involved _broadcasting_ yourself out into the Force. It was the perfect trap.

'_The moment we attempt to contact one another, the Emperor sends in his enforcer. The one they called Vader,_' Aayla realized, as the full extent of dark plan fell into place.

Jusik nodded gravely at this new piece of information, and she knew he'd be sharing it with Skirata. She groaned inwardly, since she already knew Skirata was eager to have her out of his home. This would give him one more reason to send her packing as too dangerous to offer shelter from the Empire.

Aayla noticed Skirata was studying her intently, frowning, looking back and forth between her and Bardan. He'd obviously noticed the two of them were communicating, and didn't approve. He likely thought she was corrupting their resident converted Jedi-gone-Mandalorian.

Ordo must have picked up on the sudden tension, even though not a word had been spoken. He cleared his throat, and insisted they go through the every aspect of the infiltration plan _again_. When they were finished, he started again. Aayla had thought that Bly was overly thorough and detail-oriented in his pre-mission briefings and plannings, but he had nothing on this clone. Jusik picked up on her feelings and gave her a withering look.

_'Oh come on, even you must think is excessive,' _Aayla shot the thought quickly to Jusik.

_'The Nulls are the best there is,_' Jusik admonished, and then quipped, _'their ship, their rules.'_

She gave her fellow Jedi an amused glance, pleased he'd made the effort to make a small bit of humor with her. Her amusement quickly faded at a disapproving scowl from Skirata.

At Ordo's behest, Aayla repeated her portion of the plan. He didn't tolerate the slightest deviation, requiring her to start again if she missed a word. The process was repeated with everyone onboard. As Aayla listened, she realized the Nulls had perfect recall. Interesting.

Jusik recited his portion of the plan with crisp military precision. If he'd sometimes seemed like the odd man out at the Temple, he looked content squeezed between these soldiers aboard the cramped ship. Somehow, he'd found his place.

Aayla wondered if this was how the Jedi would live on. The new order would be in men like Jusik who reinvented themselves and rewrote the rules. Is this what she would have to do to survive in the new order of the galaxy? She frowned and wished she had the privacy to meditate to further explore this idea. Aayla caught Jusik staring at her.

Oh. She realized with startling clarity she couldn't _meditate_ problems away. Maybe that was the downfall of the old Jedi Council. Too much talk. Not enough practical tactical action. She caught Jusik's eyes again and saw his chin dip with a nod of approval.

Maybe she could make it and survive in this drastically changed galaxy.

# # #

She wasn't going to make it.

"Go! I'll cover you," Ayala shouted to A'den. Both Nulls were sporting numerous new blast marks on their armor. None were serious, since their armor had absorbed the blows, except for one lucky shot which had caught Ordo above his cuisse. The blast to the hip had disabled the lead clone's leg, and A'den was supporting his brother to keep him upright. A'den was shooting with one hand as he awkwardly balanced Ordo. The lead clone was still fighting, blasting away at the numerous Imperials facing off at them from the other end of the hallway, but he was wavering on his feet. They continued to trade shots back and forth with the stormtroopers, not making any progress in getting away. The stormtroopers kept coming.

"Get him back to the ship," Aayla shouted, gesturing toward Ordo.

She could see A'den hesitating, feel his reluctance to leave her behind. Ordo wavered and nearly fell. A'den made an awkward grab, pulling him back upwards. A shot narrowly missed Ordo's head, and he yanked his brother back out of the line of fire. The blast mark left a smoking hole in the wall behind them. Ordo was nearly unconscious now, hanging limply in his brother's arms, the blaster dangling loosely in his grasp.

"Go!" Aayla urged, gesturing toward Ordo, "he needs help."

Another shot narrowly missed the pair, and Aayla was once again impressed with the speed of the Null's reflexes as he moved himself and his brother away from the shot. "Alright, A'den conceded. " He gave a nod of respect back to Aayla. "Good luck, General, and... thank you." A'den propped Ordo up against the wall for a moment, then knelt down, and flipped him up and onto his back into a wounded man carry.

He took off at a run down the corridor, while Aayla moved more fully out into the open to cover them. She needed to buy them enough time to get back to the ship. This was _not_ part of the plan. She called upon the Force to guide her shots. The good thing about being a Jedi was it allowed her to be an excellent shot. A blaster wasn't her first choice of weapon but she had perfect accuracy. She kept on taking troopers down, but more kept appearing in their place. There seemed to be an unlimited number of troopers on this base. They kept coming. She looked down the hallway. A'den and Ordo were clear, but now she had troopers moving in on her from both sides. Aayla ducked back into the cover of doorway, still taking down troopers as quickly as possible. She had to buy them more time.

Ordo, A'den and Aayla had been acting as the "diversion" on one section of the large Imperial facility while the others were liberating supplies out of the medical bay. Skirata had been insistent they not injure any clones on this mission so their weapons were set to stun. Aayla had agreed to trade in her lightsaber for a blaster. She was wearing Mandalorian armor, along with A'den and Ordo, since they were _trying_ to stand out and be noticed. The team going after the medical bay were all wearing standard white armor since they were all trying to blend in. It was a solid plan, except for the part where they'd run into much larger than expected numbers of stormtroopers.

The stormtroopers were getting closer.

She wasn't going to make it out, but the bacta tank would make it back to Bly.

# # #

"We shouldn't have left her," Ordo insisted angrily, trying to hold back a gasp of pain as his brother removed his beskar'gam.

"You were in no condition to argue," A'den pointed out, peeling back his brother's bodysuit. "The Jedi did the right thing. Any one of us would have done the same." There was grudging respect in his voice.

"And, that's why we need to go back," Ordo tried to push up from the medbay bunk. A'den immediately pushed him back. "_Stay." _He continued his perusal of his brother's wound. "Hit you between the plates alright. Should heal clean with bacta."

There was a noise from the front of the ship as the hatch of the Aay'han opened. Both brothers drew their weapons as one. "It's me." Even though he was dressed in stormtrooper armor, the voice of their father was unmistakable. The two Nulls tucked their weapons away in a single smooth move.

"Shab. What happened?" Skirata's voice sounded odd and filtered coming through the helmet. He'd tugged it off before he reached Ordo's side, a fine sheen of sweat on his lined face.

"Troop numbers greater in strength than our projections," Ordo explained, his voice tight with pain.

"Lucky shot," A'den said simply, pointing to the wound.

Skirata squeezed in next to A'den, his fingers pressing down on Ordo's leg as he examined the wound more closely. The Null drew in a breath sharply, but said nothing. "Gil needs to look at this," Skirata said with a frown, releasing his hand. His eyes swept the ship. "Where's the Jedi?"

A'den and Ordo shook their heads.

"Explain,_" _Kal growled out.

"She stayed behind so I could get Ordo out," A'den said, his voice grave.

Kal flexed and unflexed his fist, a muscle in his jaw working. Mereel, Kom'rk, Prudii, Jusik, and Gil came up thundering up the ramp into the ship.

"Jaing is securing the cargo," Mereel ran for the cockpit with Kom'rk, glancing quickly at Ordo, "Things are about to get _hot_." He shouted back over his shoulder, "You, OK, vod?"

"Fine," Ordo grumbled.

Jaing came running up the ramp, and closed the hatch up the ship. "Secure! Time to go." There was a distinct urgency in his voice.

"We can't," Ordo protested, "the General-"

Mereel shook his head and spoke back to Ordo over his shoulder as he started the liftoff procedures. "Can't help her now, vod. There's two ships headed straight for us, and a legion's worth of angry stormtroopers about ten seconds behind us."

There was a rumble as the ship vibrated with lift off.

"No!" Ordo protested, he struggled to break free of A'den.

Blaster shots pinged off the hull. "Kal'buir, those are from stormies in the hangar bay, do I return fire?" Kom'rk called back from the cockpit.

"No. Get us out of here," Kal ordered. He threw an arm across Ordo from the other side, as Gil moved, medkit in hand.

"Buir, we can't leave someone behind," Ordo argued, "she's the wife of a vod."

"They're trying to keep us in. Jamming their shields," Jaing announced calmly.

"Mereel! Take us back down," Ordo shouted.

"Ordo, _stop_," Kal said firmly. "Go, Mereel."

"Gil," Kal hissed out, "now would be a good time."

"We're clear of the shields," Mereel said, "engaging hyperdrive."

The armored doctor jammed a sharp into the bare skin of Ordo's leg. The Null slumped back into the bunk, as the sound of the engines increased.

"Clear," Mereel announced.

Kal blew out a long sigh, and ran a hand through his hair. Jusik came over, tugging off his stormtrooper helmet. He placed a comforting hand on Kal's shoulder. They both watched while Gilamar worked on cleaning the wound.

"So," Gil said over his shoulder to Jusik and Skirata, his voice carefully neutral, "which one of us gets to tell Bly the news?"

# # #


	37. Chapter 37 The Hardest Part

**"More Than Just A Clone"  
Chapter 37**

Bly shifted in his sleep, moaning softly. His toes curled and shifted restlessly, consumed with pent-up tension.

This same dream had consumed him since the day he'd taken command of the 327th Star Corps.

_'Commander Bly, a moment of your time?' _

_They were in the hangar bay, recently returned from a mission. Another campaign that dragged on three times as long as projected. The General beckoned to him and led the way toward the ancillary conference room. __He followed her down the hallway, staying a few respectful steps back. He tried not to admire the sway of her hips._

_Fek. He was trying... and failing miserably. _

_It was not only her hips. The slope of her back was so different from that of a clone. The curve was... perfect. __The General turned around and cast him a sharp glance. He grimaced under his helmet, cursing himself. __He normally was better at shielding his thoughts, but he was so overtired it was all he could do to keep from stumbling over his boots. __Fekkin' great. The general had caught him ogglin' her shebs. __They reached the conference room, and he followed her inside. This was going to be a long briefing._

_The General turned and faced him, pausing just inside the door of the room. 'Commander Bly, explain yourself.'_

_He stared at the Jedi, puzzled, trying to figure out what response was expected of him. The campaign dragging on? The shebs ogglin'? Which part? 'Sir?'_

_'Remove your helmet, and look at me.'_

_He immediately complied, his brow expressing his confusion. __Jedi. He never could understand them. He swiped a hand through his short cropped hair. __Even with his enviro-systems, he was hot. An errant drop of sweat tickled his brow and he tried not to twitch as it beaded down his face._

The General studied him for a long moment, and then squashed the errant drop of moisture with one finger.

_He gasped at her touch, confused. She had never touched him before, except when he was injured. _

_'You fought well today,' the General said, her tone sounding somewhat deeper and huskier than her usual post-battle briefing voice._

_Bly felt another bead of sweat trickle down his brow as he nervously studied the Twi'lek Jedi. __What sort of briefing this was anyway? Was he in trouble?_

_The General traced the second droplet in a slow lazy path down his cheek and he shuddered. __'You are overheated. This is dangerous. Take off your armor.'__  
_

_'Sir?' His jaw dropped as he stared at her in confusion. _

_'Your armor, Commander. You must remove it. And, your bodysuit, as well.' Her voice was still deep and husky, but held the clear authority of an order._

_He gulped nervously and looked around at their unusual surroundings. They were in a fekkin' conference room. _

_With a wave of her hand, the General locked the door. 'Would you feel better if I disrobed first?'_

_Bly had no response. _

_He watched in thunderstruck amazement as his General removed her weapons belt and carefully setting her lightsaber down on the conference room table. With perfect Jedi grace, she removed her leggings, battle skirt, top, and headdress. _

_'Alright, Commander, I seem to be fully unclothed, and you are still in your armor. Proceed to disrobe.'_

_Bly was still staring with his mouth agape. He couldn't move. His General. Naked. In the conference room. He glanced back and forth at the empty chairs. With him. Just him._

_She leaned down slightly, giving him a full view of her perfect breasts. He throat went dry and he gasped, unable to breathe._

_The General's face creased into a frown. 'Did I make a mistake here, Commander? I thought...' Her voice trailed off and she reached for her skirt, beginning to re-dress._

_Hearing the slight uncertainty in his the confident General's voice snapped Bly out of his stupor. "No!" His voice sounded overly loud in the conference room, and he glanced around quickly. But, like all conferences on the Jedi cruiser, it was completely soundproofed. _

_He stepped forward and gripped Aayla's hands in his own. "No mistakes, General."_

_He was always more a man of action than words. Bly shucked his armor and bodysuit with perfect clone precision, thinking he may have set a new record for getting it off. He still had to stack it perfectly, but it didn't take away anything from his timing. _

_"As per your command, General." He noticed that certain parts of him were standing more fully at attention than others. _

_The General's lips quirked with amusement. "At ease, Commander."_

_At ease? He was about to explode._

_She took a step back so she could study him fully. Bly licked his lips nervously. He had no idea what to do next, or what to expect. He'd trained for many things at Kamino, but this was not one of them._

_The General did a second lap, slowly circling around him. The tension was too much. _

_"Sir?" he asked, he dug his bare toes into the floor trying to distract himself as he waited for the General to complete her inspection._

_Without warning, the General grabbed him and threw him against the slick surface of the conference room table. It was cold and smooth against his bare skin and he slid back to the center of the polished surface. The flexible Twi'lek leapt onto the table and settled on top of him. __He gasped in surprise, overwhelmed by sensations. Her lips pressed down upon his, and her female mound lined up intimately against his shaft. His body responded on its own, and he bucked upwards._

_His aim was off and he thrust awkwardly against her hip bone. Bly moaned in frustration. The General grabbed a hold of him, and he gasped at the feel of her hands touching him where a woman had never ventured before. She repositioned him slightly and he felt himself slide inside his General's body._

_They moved together, their bodies in perfect sync. Bly felt his skin stick to the polished surface of the table as he slammed back against it time and time again. He knew meetings in the room would never be the same for him._

_"I have wanted to do this since the day you were assigned to me," the General said, her eyes a deeper shade than he'd ever seen them before. Fek. She was so beautiful._

_He heard her cry out his name and shudder around him. As the spasms erupted, he joined her and spilled himself inside her body. __He shouted so loudly he wondered if he'd penetrated the soundproofing of the room along with his General's body. She collapsed across his chest and neither of them could move for several moments because their passion had been so consuming. _

_Finally, the General's head lifted off his chest and she gave him a gentle lingering kiss. It promised so much. It said that she belonged to **him**, and no other. They dressed and parted ways before they were seen._

_"Until our next briefing, then?"_

At times, he had variations on the dream. The 'briefing' would take place in any available supply closet because no conference rooms were available. He would be 'de-briefed' up against cleaning supplies or in a spare weapons storage area. Unable to wait a micro-second longer, he'd simply rip off his codpiece and throw the General up against the door of the supply room. Or, she would take charge and pin him down painfully against a crate as DC-15ms dug painfully into his back. Or, they would have an 'emergency command session' in cockpit of the nearest LAAT with the General sealing the doors shut.

But, they were only dreams. And, they plagued him night after night for his entire stint in the 327th Star Corps.

When morning came, he'd fekkin' freeze his overheated in the body 'fresher or he'd have no hope of jamming himself into his codpiece. Good thing he'd didn't sleep in the barracks with the others. He had no idea what he mumbled out in his sleep.

Bly woke up with a startled gasp and gazed around the moonlit room, unsure of his surroundings. He'd dreamed once again of Aayla. But, where the fek was he? These _weren't_ his quarters. He bolted upright and grabbed for his blaster. Fek. Fek. Fek. His arm wouldn't move. He stared down in a panic, sure droids had somehow stolen the limb. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, his breathing steadied out and memories flooded back.

Felucia.

Mandalore.

Aayla.

Oh, fek. He had actually _married_ the General.

His brain rejected the implausibility of the statement. It was the stuff of his wildest fantasy. He fekkin' _dreamed_ of stuff like that, so it couldn't actually happen. He buried his face in his one workable hand and sucked in a deep dragging breath. He waited while his brain caught up once again with the overwhelming events of the past week. The entire galaxy had been turned upside down. But, yes, the General had actually married him.

The reality of being with Aayla was more than anything he could have imagined during his days of constant freezing showers on the Jedi cruiser.

And, then she'd gone on a farkin' mission without him.

He glanced down at the chrono on his good arm. 0215. He blew out a sigh, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep anymore. Bly rolled over gingerly, and sat up, careful of his injured arm. He checked his chrono again and felt a stirring of hope. Aayla, Skirata, the doctor, the Jedi Jusik, and the Nulls were due back today. He reached for his tunic and stifled back a groan. He was almost too stiff to move. His whole body had been off-kilter since Felucia. Getting mauled by Walon's damned strill had set him back even further. He still wasn't sure why he couldn't shoot the fekkin' thing.

He growled out an agitated sigh, and stumbled toward the refresher. He'd woken up sore all in every limb after battle plenty of times. A hot shower usually loosened up his muscles and his strong Fett-physiology took care of the rest.

The clone commander stood under a scalding spray of water as his muscles loosened up. He glanced down at himself and raised up an eyebrow. There was one area of himself that didn't seem to want to relax. He considered switching over to a freezing shower, but he wasn't in a hurry. There were some advantages to civilian life.

Bly emerged from the shower, relieved of some Fett DNA, and shook water out of his hair. He was still pleasantly warm, so he walked naked as he was vatted as he rummaged for clothes. There was a long mirror along one wall, and he studied his image. A week of healing outside a bacta tank had left him with numerous new scars. Aayla was no longer bound by the Jedi Order. She could have anyone in the galaxy now. Her body was still so _perfect_.

He turned away from his scarred image and struggled into his tunic. He was winded by the time he finally pulled on the pants. Gah. He stared in frustration. How the fek was he going to get on the boots and socks with one-hand? He wiped a hand across his brow. He'd worked up a sweat, and he'd just emerged from the shower.

Fek it. He grunted and decided he wasn't willing to attempt the task without caf. He grabbed up the offending items and headed off to the kitchen barefoot. The bastion flooring was freezing at night. But, he didn't have much of a choice. There was no way he could get the footwear on by himself.

The hallways were lit at night with low track lighting running along the flooring. It was enough to see by, especially if you had the keen eyesight of a clone. Bly could have located the master switch to illuminate the halls, but didn't bother. He could find his way to the kitchen.

Gah. Not only was the flooring freezing, the entire fekkin' bastion was freezing. He was rethinking his decision to leave his warm bed. But, at this point, he had to be closer to the kitchen than he was to his room. His entire body was shaking with cold.

Bly heaved out a sigh as he padded into the massive dining area. Somehow the whole room exuded warmth.

No, wait, it _was_ warmer. Residual heat from a fire in the central fireplace warmed the dining room. Bly stopped in front of the fireplace, and gratefully absorbed the heat until his violent shivering stopped. Then, the overwhelming desire for caf took over. He padded into the kitchen and found the kitchen was also pleasantly warm from the cooking of the night before. It smelled of roasted meat and sweet baked goods. Lights automatically came on as he entered. Having already expertly scouted the place out while he and Fi cleaned the kitchen, he found the caf supplies with ease. With the athleticism of one who'd trained hard his whole life, he propelled himself one-handed onto the counter and waited for the caf to brew. He breathed deeply as the aroma filled the large room. Even though it was the stronger variety of Mando caf, the aroma was still reassuring and reminded him of the smell that always assailed him the moment he walked into the mess hall. He closed his eyes and imaged he was back onboard a Jedi cruiser with the 327th and Order 66 had never happened. He could see the faces of every one of his Legion greeting him, sitting in their usual places, and the General nodding to join him at their usual table.

His eyes snapped back open, and he hopped down off the counter. He walked over to one of the tall windows looking out into the dark night. Everything came with a price. He'd always wanted the General and he'd gotten her. But, the Republic had fallen, the Jedi were gone and he'd lost the 327th Sky Corps.

The caf pot beeped softly. He found himself the largest plasti-cup he could and poured in the steaming caf. He took an experimental sip, and gave an approving nod. For a clone commander, he didn't do have bad in the kitchen. He considered finding something to eat, but he still hadn't regained a proper clone appetite. He took the cup and headed back out the main room and settled in front of the warmth of the embers of the fire. He stared off out of one the large windows into the dark, lost in memories of the past. Sometime during the night, he drifted off, the caf still clutched in one hand.

"Hey, we gave you a room. You could sleep there."

Bly blearily opened an eye and stared up at Fi. His brother tugged the empty cup out of his grasp and replaced it with a new one.

"I'd ask how you slept, but since you are only somewhat dressed and hugging a caf cup, I'm going to assume you are still missing the General," Fi's lips curled up with amusement.

Bly gave Fi a bland look, but he'd come to appreciate the other clone's quirky humor. He took a long dreg of the caf and 'hmmped' with pleasure. He took it back. Whoever made this caf was far more skilled than him. "Any word from the others?"

Fi shook his head. "Mereel said not to expect anything. Jaing has not yet finished encryption protocols secure enough to risk comms."

"We won't know anything until they land." It was a statement, not a question. He stared out the window again, and finished his caf. Fi brought him out a fresh cup, and they sat in silence drinking together. It was pleasant having the former [Omega] squad member be quiet for once, and Bly was grateful that Fi could sense he wasn't in the mood to talk.

The first orange rays of lights were struggling to penetrate the horizon, but nights were long on Mandalore. As he drained his fourth cup of caf, Fi took it from him, and shoved a plate of food in his hands. Bly nodded his thanks and poked listlessly at the sweet breads and dried meats.

"You should eat," Fi said, breaking the silence.

Bly glanced over at him and nodded, and went back to staring out the window. Sunrises on Mandalore were spectacular. He'd never seen anything like them on Corrie. The contrasts of smoky greys and fiery oranges reminded him of being in battle. His fingers poked down into the textured meat and squishy bread. He knew he should be hungry, but his stomach was knotted.

His lips lifted up in a ghost of a smile. It was probably just too much caf. Aayla was always trying to get him to try her beloved Jedi teas. He steadfastly refused, telling her caf drinking was encoded into his genome. The smile faded from his lips and as the fiery orange took over the horizon he suddenly wondered what he would do if Aayla _didn't_ return.

Parja and Laseema joined in after a while, slipping into the chairs on either side of them. The Twi'lek tugged the plate out of Bly's hand and replaced it an omelette, overstuffed with meat in true Mandalorian style. Bly nodded, giving the unfamiliar dish a tentative sniff as he poked at it with his fork.

"It's not a det, di'kut. Eat it," Fi said, kicking him in the shins with a well-scuffed boot. The commando had definitely tempered his strength because the blow didn't do more than annoy Bly. He wasn't willing to go so easy on his vod in return. He struck out with his heel, hitting Fi on the leg between his armored plates. Bly took a generous bite of the mixture.

"Ow!" Fi protested, laughing. He peered down curiously at Bly's bare feet. "Where the fek are you boots?"

The former commander didn't pause in his eating. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he finally started to eat. The meat and eggs were spiced and blended well together. It tasted like the sort of thing a hungry clone liked to eat. His only response to Fi's question was a slight tilt of his head toward the side of his chair.

The medic glanced over and noticed Bly's boots neatly tucked down below. He chuckled. "Sure. You can snap my leg with your bare feet, but you can't get _those_ on."

"I'm a fekkin' ARC. I don't need my shooting arm to do some damage," Bly grumbled, not looking up from where he was shoveling in the last bites of egg.

"You're in a bastion filled with Nulls and commandos. No one gets super clone status here."

Bly looked up and realized Fi was right. He'd had special status in the GAR. He was different from other clones and had been told so by Jango Fett from the beginning. The other clones accused the ARCs of being 'arrogant.' Bly always figured they were jealous of his superior skills and training. He _had _always walked around like he was a notch above everyone else. No wonder he hadn't made any lasting friendships beyond Catcher.

"Don't be so rough on him," Parja scolded Fi, rising up to leave. "He's new here." She leaned over and kissed her husband on the cheek. "You coming by the shop later?"

"See you there. I'm _not_ being rough on him. I'm making him feel at home."

Laseema graciously rose up from her chair, her fluid way of moving reminding Bly of his wife. She knelt down in front of him and gathered up his boots and socks. "Here. Let me help you."

He wanted to object, not able to look at the beautiful Twi'lek. He twirled his empty caf cup in his hand. "Thank you for the meal," he muttered out, trying not to grit his teeth as her hands slid over him. He didn't want anyone else touching him. The Twi'lek pulled on his boots with the efficiency of one who had dressed and undressed others many times before. She reached up for the dishes in his hand, but Bly shook his head. "I'll take kitchen detail."

She smiled at him. "You'll do alright here."

Bly managed a small smile in response, still not able to fully meet her ideas. He was not convinced there was much of a place for him and his Jedi wife. He had no idea of anywhere in the post-Republic galaxy they were welcome. He pushed the thoughts aside and decided to tackle kitchen detail. He was surviving like it did every major military campaign. Focus on the larger strategy while making sure you survive the next hour.

Fi joined him in the kitchen and helped with the tasks which proved impossible to do one-handed. Bly still tried and the former Omega Squad clone ended up saving him from dropping a heavy dura-steel pan onto his feet.

"Fek, you're stubborn," Fi said. He placed the pan in the cleansing unit and slapped Bly on the shoulder. "Come on, we're done here."

"So, now what? What do you _do_ all day?" Bly demanded. Normally, every minute of his day was scheduled and a week of complete anarchy was taking its toll.

The Omega squad clone laughed. "Fekkin' free time. It was the thing I hated most after I came here. We're not engineered for it. We're headed to Parja's shop."

He was relieved to have something to do. He was never meant to sit around. Blame it on his Jango genome. "Let's go," he said, sounding every bit the imperious marshal commander, leading the way. He stopped, disoriented again by the sheer size of the bastion. "Which way is the door?"

# # #

Bly tried to focus on Parja's detailed explanation of the LUX-3 Landspeeder in pieces all over the shop. She was proud of the cramped facility and parts of it vaguely reminded Bly of a service bay on a cruiser. But, it could use efficiency upgrades. He caught Fi's eyes, and gave him a questioning look, wondering if it would be acceptable to suggest an improved organizational system. His brother gave a quick negative shake. Parja rubbed her palms against her workshop overalls, succeeding in only spreading grime around. Bly wondered what the point of _that_ was but figured it was also an off-limits topic.

"Stop doing that clone thing," Parja put down the hydrospanner she was using as a pointer during her prolonged lecture on engine parts..

"What clone thing?" Fi asked, blinking innocently.

"That thing where you know each other's thoughts without speaking," the engineer said. "You know I find it creepy."

Both clones opened their mouths to object, but the small Mandalorian woman continued on. "It's _Jedi_-like."

"No need to get insulting," Fi grumbled.

Bly folded his arms across his chest about to join Fi in defending the honor of vode everywhere. They were definitely _not_ creepy. His relationship with Aayla aside, Jedi were-

A high-pitched whine from overhead interrupted his brilliant rebuttal. He took off outside the shop at a full sprint. A distinctive greyish-green shape swooped overhead and headed toward the bastion.

"The Aay'han is back," Fi murmured.

# # #

The ship was already down by the time they rounded the corner toward the bastion. Bly saw Jaing and Kom'rk unloading cargo off the ramp. He tried to get himself to relax knowing the mission had been a success. Why did his body still feel shaken and twisted like it did when the legion suffered terrible losses? He circled the ship, looking for the tall form of the Twi'lek Jedi. But, they were only clones, half-clad in stormtrooper armor, slowly coming down the ramp. He knew _that_ look. Shoulders down. Chin slumped. Eyes averted. Silent. He stayed slightly back, out of the way.

From within the ship, Skirata called: "Get a stretcher!"

Fek. Bly barreled up the ramp and nearly took out the Mandalorian.

"Whoa!" Skirata said, careful to catch him without grabbing onto his injured shoulder and arm. "Bly, hold on."

Bly knew _that_ voice. And, fek no. He was _not_ going to hold on. He violently tore free of Skirata's grasp and continued into the cramped ship.

"Bly," growled Skirata, but he let him continue, following behind him.

The clone commander looked around wildly, expecting to see his wife somewhere in the ship, injured. Why else were they calling for a stretcher?

"Bly, over here."

# # #

_A/N: So, a bit overdue for an update. For those of you who follow "Rex," you know the story is spiraling to a close after three years. So, this chapter was a bit of fun with the dream sequence and a slight bit of a blast into Bly's past. Next chapter, we learn more Aayla's fate. My genius readers, all of you, have probably already figured out the chapter title: "The Hardest Part." Waiting, of course, is the hardest part._


End file.
